Can't Go On
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: This is a story that looks at the pain that comes from infidelity and betrayal. It's McAbby, and it's very long. I'm posting two chapters per day. 52 chapters, plus an epilogue.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**I'm putting a lengthy warning on this story, not because it's graphic or anything, but because I think that there are people who simply won't enjoy it. This is a McAbby story first of all. Second of all, it's about the pain that comes from infidelity _and_ betrayal by friends. I have been told that parts of this story could be considered bashing by some fans of the show. I disagree, but I will admit that I started this very long story after season 7, the end of which I hated enough that I almost stopped watching the show and was close to hating Gibbs as well. Thankfully, that passed, but I'm less sympathetic to Gibbs in the beginning of this story and it will show...clearly.

So here are the people who may not like this story (although I could be wrong): those who think Abby, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and/or Tim can do no wrong. While Tim is the main character, he's not perfect either. People who don't like McAbby. People who think any time that Tony or Gibbs (mostly) make mistakes is an illustration of character bashing.

In case you can't tell, I'm a little nervous about posting this story over here, given the general makeup of the fans on this site, but here it is.

**Disclaimer:** I do not now, nor have I ever, owned NCIS. I'm not making money off this story, although if I got a penny for each word written, I'd almost have enough to pay off another full year of grad school tuition. :)

* * *

**Can't Go On  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

**Chapter 1**

Tim sat down on his bed. The coming confrontation gave him no pleasure. There wasn't even much anger really. Just sadness...and a horrible sense of inevitability. It wouldn't go away if he continued to avoid it. Abby was downstairs. For the last week, she'd been avoiding him, leaving the bedroom quickly...none of the playfulness that had marked their marriage for the last two years.

With a sigh, Tim got up and walked to the stairs. He paused again at the top. What would he say? What would _she_ say?

_It can't go on like this,_ Tim thought. That was the only thing he knew for sure.

He took a deep breath and walked down the stairs. Abby was in the kitchen. Cooking breakfast. She had rarely ever done that. They usually ran around chaotically in the mornings, searching for something they could eat on the way over. Tim always had his coffee, but they didn't bother with cooking breakfast unless it was a weekend when they didn't have to go to work.

She looked at him, smiled...and then looked away.

"Abby?" Tim asked.

"Do you want bacon?"

"No."

"Your coffee should be ready soon."

"Abby."

Abby turned around and faced the oven.

"Are you sure you don't want bacon? It's good."

"Abby."

"I could whip up an omelette or something like that. Eggs are good for you again so you can..."

"Abby."

Abby stopped talking but she didn't turn around.

Tim sat down at the table and stared at the rigid lines of her back.

"When?" he asked.

The knife in Abby's hand clattered to the counter.

"How did you know?"

Tim found that he was able to smile.

"I'm an investigator, Abbs. ...and you stink at keeping secrets."

There was a hiccuped laugh.

"When?" he repeated softly.

"The conference. Two weeks ago. You couldn't come with me because of work."

"Yeah. I remember."

"My talk went really well. You weren't answering your phone."

"It was dead. I'd forgotten to charge it up."

"I was annoyed."

"I'm sure you were."

"One of the presenters started talking to me. We drank...not a lot, but enough."

"Enough," Tim said, almost in a whisper.

"I couldn't believe what I'd done...but at the same time..."

"It was exciting...wasn't it."

A loud sniff, and Tim watched Abby's hand move up and wipe her eyes.

"Y-Yeah. It was."

Tim smiled again, even though Abby couldn't see him.

"I always worried about that, you know. Me being too boring to keep your interest."

"That's not it!" Abby turned around, her eyes red, her mascara smeared. Then, as if she'd suddenly exposed herself, she whirled back. "That's not it, Tim."

"It's got to be part of it."

"Maybe...I don't know."

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still love me? ...not like you love puppies..." A tearful laugh. "...not even like you love the other people at NCIS. Do you still love me like husbands and wives love each other?"

Silence.

"I have to ask."

"Why?"

Tim got up, circled the counter and stood beside her. Gently, he took her shoulders and turned her toward him.

"Because...Abby...I love you more than anything. I can't imagine loving anyone as much as I love you. ...but if you don't love me anymore..." Tim sighed, feeling the churning in his gut as he tried to express himself correctly. "...I chose you, Abby. You chose me...and I chose you. ...I _still_ choose you. ...but only if you want it. If you've lost that...if you don't think that you feel the same way anymore... Then, there's no reason to try."

Abby's eyes moved up to his. "Try?"

"Yes," Tim said. "Yes...try. If you want to...but only if you really want to. If you don't...then don't pretend. Don't act like you feel that way if you don't." Now, Tim felt some anger, some hurt. "...because I can't... I couldn't take it again. Knowing that...knowing what you did...it's like someone jabbed a knife into my gut. If you want to try, then so do I...but only if it's real."

"I do love you, Tim," Abby said. "I don't know why I did what I did. I really don't. It's not about being exciting... I don't know what it is."

"Do you want to try, Abby?"

"Yes, Tim. I do."

Tim nodded and hugged her gently.

"Then...I guess we're stuck with each other for a little while longer."

"Tim...I love you and I don't want to give that up."

"Then, we'll try again."

Abby pulled back and looked at him. "Do you still want an omelette?" she asked.

Tim shook his head. "No. I...I think we should... go to work separately today."

"Separate?"

"Yes. I need to think."

"Don't leave me, Tim."

"I'm not...but I need to think."

"Okay."

"Tonight...we need to talk. Decide what we're going to do."

"Okay."

Tim managed one more smile and kissed Abby on the forehead. Sometimes, even though she was older than he was, she seemed so much like a child.

"I love you, Abbs."

"I love you, Tim."

"I'll see you at work."

"Okay. Good-bye."

Tim nodded and picked up his bag. Then, he let himself out of the house. He stood on the stoop and looked around. He had thought he had everything he wanted.

What had gone wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Tim took his time driving to NCIS. In fact, he deliberately went slowly. He didn't know what to do. He had promised Abby that they would try...but there was still all the hurt he felt. How could this have happened?

All too soon, he was walking into NCIS. He hoped that he could hide how he was feeling. He didn't want this to become common knowledge. Abby didn't deserve that...and to be honest, he himself didn't want to have it known that his wife had cheated on him.

As he thought of it, Tim felt his heart clench painfully. The betrayal. That was the worst part. He took a deep breath and walked inside, went through security and headed up to the bullpen.

"Hey, Probie!" Tony greeted in his usual teasing tones.

"Morning, Tony," Tim said, unable to muster up much enthusiasm.

"Oh, fighting in the McGee household, McGee?" Tony asked.

"No, Tony. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh..._really_?" he leered. "And where is your lovely wife so I can ask her about that sleepless night?"

Tim tried not to think about Abby having sex with someone else. He failed.

"She's not here yet."

Tony leaned back. "Why not, McGee?"

"We decided to come separately."

"Why?"

"It's not your business, Tony! Just leave it alone!" Tim got up and walked toward the restrooms...but he couldn't help hearing Tony talk to Ziva.

"Sounds like there is turmoil in the McGee household. The Probie must have stuck his foot in his mouth."

"Why do you say that?" Ziva asked.

Tim paused in his trek.

"Because McGee said he didn't get much sleep. He must have slept on the couch. They came separately today."

Tim felt his heart clench again. He had known that would be the assumption. Still, that was how it would have to be. He wouldn't air his personal life, especially something that could cause problems for Abby. They had no right to know about this. He and Abby would have to work through it and see what could be salvaged.

Even so...it made him want to cry. And he didn't cry.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby walked into NCIS and hoped that no one saw her. She felt as though what she had done was branded on her forehead. She couldn't erase the hurt, the sense of betrayal she had seen in Tim's eyes this morning. She had felt nothing but guilt since it had happened. It was such a stupid, thoughtless...horrible thing to have done. She didn't even remember the guy's name! She had cheated on Tim...not because she'd fallen in love with someone else but because she'd felt a little bit of annoyance and had had too much to drink. Ever since she had awakened next to someone who was _not_ her husband, she had wished she could go back and make it never happen.

She had tried to pretend that it hadn't, but it was impossible. She should have known that Tim would notice.

As she walked in, she caught a glimpse of Tim walking back to his desk. His expression hurt her heart when their eyes met. He managed to smile and then continued on his way.

"Oh, here's Abby, now, Probie! Should we ask _her_ what put you in the doghouse?"

Abby heard it and then she waited for Tim to correct Tony...but nothing happened. Tim just sat down and didn't say anything. She wanted to run to him and kiss him just for that. ...but instead, she just headed quickly to her lab, not answering Tony's calls.

She immersed herself in her work, trying to not to worry that she had ruined not only her own life but Tim's as well. She didn't see anyone until after lunch...which she spent alone. Tim usually came down and they either ate together or went somewhere. Not today.

Abby couldn't hold back the tears. She sniffed and hugged Bert tightly.

"Abbs, what's wrong?"

Gibbs. Abby set Bert down carefully in his place and then turned around and hugged Gibbs, burying her face in his chest.

"Nothing's wrong, Gibbs! Nothing is at all wrong! Why would you think that?" she said, wiping her tears on his jacket.

"Abby, what's going on?"

"Nothing! Just let me hug you for a while, okay? Be the functional mute I know and love and don't ask any questions!" Her voice cracked.

"Okay."

Abby tightened her grip around Gibbs' waist and cried. It was nice to stand there, Gibbs' arms around her, comforting her in her misery. When the doors to the lab opened, she didn't move...until she heard Tim's voice.

"Boss, Tony forgot to give..."

Abby hurriedly pulled away from Gibbs...and she noticed his expression, but she didn't acknowledge it.

"Hey, Tim," she said.

"Hey, Abbs." There was an awkward pause and then he held out an evidence bag. "Here's one more piece of evidence from the scene. I didn't want it to get lost in the shuffle." He managed an encouraging smile...but there was nothing of the unquestioning love she'd always seen there. There was too much hurt for the love to be seen. ...if it was really still there.

"Thanks, Tim. We wouldn't want anything getting lost, now would we."

"No. We wouldn't."

"I'll just sign for that."

Tim nodded and handed her the bag.

"Looks like I have work to do, Gibbs," Abby said and forced a smile. She sniffed a few more times, wiped away her running mascara and turned back to her computer.

Tim walked out without saying another word. She could feel Gibbs still standing behind her, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there. Well, if Tim could keep things private, so could she.

"Abby."

"There's nothing wrong!" she said quickly. "I'm going to get behind, Gibbs. It's not like you to keep me from working!"

"I'll be back when you've got something."

Abby nodded. "You always know."

Gibbs came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek and then left. Abby felt the spot and then started to cry again. She was afraid that she had lost Tim, even if he did say he wanted to try.

If she were honest, she didn't know if she could have said the same were their situations reversed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The elevator came to an abrupt stop and Tim felt his heart constrict again. This just kept getting worse and worse.

"What's going on, McGee?"

"Going on with what, Boss?" Tim asked.

"Between you and Abby."

"That's between me and Abby, not you," Tim said.

"What? Are you jealous that she was hugging me?"

Tim laughed in Gibbs' face. "Boss, if I got jealous every time Abby hugged someone, I would have gone nuts a long time ago."

"Then, what's going on? What did you do?"

Now, Tim added anger to his feeling of hurt, but still, not even Gibbs deserved to know about this. He had known that he would take Abby's side, but he couldn't say it, not to Gibbs, not to any of them. It was private.

"Like I said, _Boss_, it's none of your business. Just like it's none of Tony's business and none of Ziva's business. We might be friends here, but you do _not_ live with Abby and me."

"If it's affecting your work or Abby's work, then it's _my_ business."

"Is it? Have you found anything lacking?" Tim retorted. "I know you haven't because Abby does good work even if she's upset and I haven't screwed up. In fact, I caught something _Tony_ missed. So...is it affecting our work?"

Gibbs stared at him in that analyzing way, and Tim couldn't stand it. He reached around Gibbs and turned back on the elevator. He was surprised when Gibbs didn't say anything more.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Throughout the rest of the day, Tim felt his stomach in knots in anticipation of the coming night when he knew that he and Abby would have to talk it out, have to figure out what they were going to do. He just wished that he himself knew.

"Hey, McGee, you'd better prostrate yourself before Abby's altar. Otherwise, the boss might get on your case about making his favorite sad."

"Oh, leave him alone, Tony. Let them work it out themselves. You certainly are not the one to be giving relationship advice."

Tim didn't look at them.

"I've never made Abby cry, though, now have I."

"Have you ever dated Abby?"

"No."

"Then, there is no comparison."

Tim couldn't take it. He stood up. "Guys! Knock it off! Just shut up about it, okay? You want to gossip, at least have the decency to do it when I'm _not_ around!" He stood up and walked to the elevator.

"What about Abby, McGee?"

"She came in her own car, Ziva." He walked to the elevator and left.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Wow. It must have been quite the argument," Tony said.

"It was _something_. McGee would not have been so upset otherwise," Ziva agreed.

"Well, Abby isn't talking, but she's crying, and McGee isn't talking. It must have been a doozy. What do you think McGee said?"

"Who knows?"

"I'll find out. We can't have the kids fighting. It makes things unsettled."

"Tony, do not poke your nose in. They will not appreciate it. Many couples fight."

"Yeah, but not Abby. She can't stay angry for more than a few hours and this has gone on all day. If she made him sleep on the couch? This is bad."

"Do not say I did not warn you."

Tony smiled. "I'll plan my strategy tonight and implement it tomorrow. You'll see. I'll figure out what McGee did wrong and then help him fix it! He'll _thank_ me!"

Ziva rolled her eyes and left Tony plotting.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby looked around the lab. Everything was tucked away, secure and in its place. ...and Tim must have left already. That meant that she could get out of the building and think about what to say to him tonight.

Her phone beeped at her, indicating an incoming text message. She was so excited that she ran and picked it up and looked at it without even thinking that it might be bad news. It was Tim's designated beep; so she knew it was from him.

_Abby. Getting dinner. What do you want?_

Abby smiled tremulously and then typed in a response.

_Anything. I don't care. Surprise me._

The response was swift.

_All right. See you at home._

Abby took a breath and swallowed nervously. She hoped that everything wasn't ruined.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Abby beat Tim home and she got out of the car, looking around the small neighborhood in which they lived. It wasn't in DC because, even with their combined income, they didn't really have enough for a house of any size in DC. So they were living in Maryland in a small two-bedroom (plus den) house. Tim's Porsche and Abby's vintage car were a little out of the ordinary...but then, so were they. Not too many Goths in this area and not too many special agents. Still, most of the neighbors had been welcoming and friendly, and once they had gotten over Abby's predilection for avoiding direct sunlight, they had been more than happy to include the two of them in neighborhood parties.

She had never thought she'd end up in a place like this. She'd never thought herself the type to want the house, the settled life.

_Maybe you really don't. Maybe that's what all this is really about._

That treacherous voice inside her made her wince. Was it true? ...but she loved Tim. She knew that, and she had known exactly what she was getting when she had started dating him again, when he had proposed, when they got married...even when they moved here. She had chosen the house, of course. Tim had wanted one in another area, but Abby had marshaled the troops at NCIS in her favor and Tim had given in with a laugh, saying that as long as she was happy with it...

_Tim always wants me to be happy._

He had given in on the house. He had given in on the date of the wedding, on much of the decorating of the house, on their honeymoon. Was he just too much of doormat? Was that the problem?

...but no, that couldn't be it, because when things mattered to him, he insisted. He put his foot down... like their bed. It was a bed, not her coffin. The coffin was currently residing in the spare room. Tim had said that he was not going to try and squash the two of them into the coffin night after night. Abby had pouted, but Tim had been firm on that.

...and then had given in on the black satin sheets. ...and the blood red pillow cases (although he also had a couple of regular white cotton pillow cases that he preferred to sleep on. They were hidden at the bottom of the pillows during the day.)

So no, Tim didn't always give in, only when he didn't care. ...and a lot of the things that Abby insisted on didn't matter to him. He had argued about the house location, but even that, in the end, didn't matter. The neighborhoods were comparable, the costs similar. So he had given in...but only under the onslaught of everyone at NCIS being on her side.

That thought made her wince. She knew that Tim was being blamed because people usually took her side...or else she _made_ them take her side. It was an automatic reaction. ...and Tim...he was giving in to that, too.

"Abby!"

Abby jumped a little and looked over. Their old neighbor was out in her garden as usual.

"Hi, June."

"Where's your husband?"

"We had crazy schedules today and weren't sure we'd be done at the same time. So we went separately."

Wow...the lie was so easy. Where had it even come from? Sure, it had happened before, but it wasn't happening this time.

"You two...always gallivanting around."

"That's us."

"But you're so wonderfully matched, for all that you're different." June sighed. "Makes me long for the days when my Harry was alive. He was as perfect for me as Tim is for you."

Abby smiled and nodded and then quickly ended the conversation and went inside to set the table...a ritual that made her smile even as it hurt. On days when they _did_ have to go separately, Tim usually got dinner and Abby set the table...and on days when it was a surprise, she guessed on which utensils would be appropriate. The rule was that they had to use whatever she set out. It didn't usually matter, except for the time she had guessed chopsticks and Tim had brought home soup.

She didn't try to be creative today. Just plates, glasses, knife, fork, spoon. The usual. ...and as usual, she had timed it almost perfectly. She heard Tim's car pull into the driveway just as she was putting out the napkins.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got out of his car and stared at the house for a long moment. It was a lovely little house in a quiet neighborhood. The people were friendly, and the potential for permanency enticing. Abby had made a good choice. He could admit that, and after all, he had wanted her to be happy.

...and as it had over and over on the drive home, the thought repeated.

_Why wasn't it good enough? Why wasn't _I_ good enough for her?_

Perhaps he'd be angry later, but right now, he was still mostly hurt and confused by the sudden dissolution of all the happiness he'd thought he had. It was as if he had been living in a blissful dream up to this moment and now painful reality was insisting that he wake up.

His parents had told him that the honeymoon period wore off eventually. ...but they had never said that the way it wore off was through adultery.

"Planning to remodel, Tim?"

Tim blinked and looked over.

"No, June," he said smiling at their neighbor. "Just thinking. It's been a long day."

"Well, I just saw Abby go inside a few minutes ago. I was just telling her how wonderful you two are together."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, June."

"I'm not just saying that, either. You two are the strangest, most perfect couple I know. ...and I'm old! I know a lot of couples."

Tim laughed. "Well, she's probably ready for dinner; so I'd better get inside."

"Yes, you do that."

June waved and Tim struggled not to show the pain that came from her simple observations. She was a wonderful old lady, but she had no idea of what was happening in this "perfect" marriage. He walked in and called out.

"Abby, I'm home."

"Hey, Tim. I've got the table set."

He hadn't tried to be creative today. There was a wonderful Indian restaurant which they both liked on the way and so he had stopped there and picked up some of his favorites and some of Abby's favorites.

Abby came into the hall to take the food from him while he put his work stuff away. Again, all part of the routine. Was that what had caused this? Too much routine? It wasn't exciting enough for her? She had denied it...but maybe that was it.

"I thought you'd beat me home," Abby said, smiling tentatively.

"I...took the long way home. More time to think."

She nodded quietly and then paused.

"Tim...we can..."

"Let's eat, first, Abbs. No sense in discussing something like this over dinner."

"Are you sure? Because..."

Tim shook his head. "After dinner."

She acquiesced and they ate...in a silence that was awkward, punctuated by equally-awkward attempts at conversation. Still, Tim thought it was best. If they started talking about all this now, they wouldn't really eat anything...and they needed to.

After dinner, Tim got up to take the dishes into the kitchen.

"No, Tim. I'll clean up."

Tim smiled. "Abby..."

"No, really! I want to!"

He laughed. "No, you don't. You feel guilty and you think this will help."

Abby reached out to take a plate and Tim grabbed her hand.

"Abby...a lifetime's worth of doing the dishes isn't going to make this go away. Let's just clean up together like always. Okay?"

Abby's eyes teared up and she nodded.

"Okay, Tim."

They cleaned up and went into the living room and sat down.

"What are we going to do, Tim?" Abby asked.

On the one hand, Tim was glad that Abby was recognizing that he was the injured party and should have a large say in what happened...but on the other hand, he had no idea. He didn't have any experience with being the husband of a cheating spouse. He didn't _know_ what to do.

"We're going to talk...a lot. We're going to see if we can figure out what the best way to go about all this is. We're going to get to the bottom of why it happened."

"I told you what happened, Tim. I wasn't lying about that," Abby said.

"I know...Abbs. I believe you...but..." Tim hesitated. He didn't want to say this, didn't want to believe it, but... "...there has to be something else. I can't fathom drinking a little too much and sleeping with someone just because I was a little miffed at _you_."

Abby winced and tears ran down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Abbs, but I can't...and I can't figure out why that was _your _thought. Why you decided, even with too much to drink, that having sex with another man was the proper response to my not answering my phone."

"I don't know, Tim. I really don't!" Abby said, crying. "I wish I did."

"That's why we're going to talk. We can't let this turn into silence. It's not going to work that way. If we just try to ignore it, it'll eat...me alive. It won't work. _I_ need to understand because I can't, not right now."

"Do you forgive me?" Abby asked.

Tim felt his heart clench painfully again. "Abby..." The words stuck in his throat and he had to try again. "Abby...I just found out this morning that my wife cheated on me. You can't ask me to forgive you yet. ...maybe a better man could...but I'm not that man. I can't forgive you yet and you have to give me time to deal with it. So...please don't ask me."

Abby's head dropped and the tears which had mixed with her mascara dripped onto her hands, making black designs on her fingers. Carefully, Tim reached out with a tissue and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. She laughed and took it from him.

"Now, there's one more thing. We're not going to tell anyone."

Abby lifted her head. "Tim, that's not fair for you."

"No, but I'm used it. They tease me all the time. They always take your side. Give it a few days and they'll forget like they always do. Abby, I don't want you to face that kind of stigma. What happens between us outside NCIS has nothing to do with anyone else. It's about you. It's about me. It's not about Gibbs, Tony or Ziva. It's not about anyone but us. We need to deal with it, not them. Do _you_ want to tell Gibbs that you slept with someone else?"

Abby shook her head silently. Tim had known she wouldn't, but he had to drive the point home.

"I don't want them to know. I don't want this to become something that people gossip about. I don't want _you_ to be gossiped about. Okay?"

"Tim, why aren't you mad at me?"

"I don't know, Abbs. ...because I love you so much? Because I hurt too much to be angry? I don't know."

Abby reached out and wrapped her arms around Tim's neck and hugged him.

"I don't deserve you, Tim."

Part of Tim couldn't help agreeing, but he didn't say that.

"It's not about me deserving you or you deserving me. It's about getting through...our first major bump as a married couple. ...and we'll see if we can. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. I'm tired. How about you?"

Abby nodded and they headed to bed. They went through the same routine as they always did, and when they got into bed, Tim carefully removed all the satin pillows and stacked them on the floor, leaving his white cotton pillows beside Abby's red pillows.

The lights went out and they lay there, side by side...but a million miles apart.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you still hold me?"

Tim felt his throat close up but he nodded. "Yeah. Come on over."

He heard Abby slide carefully across the bed and into his arms. He held her, feeling her body slowly relax as she fell asleep. He had lain like this so many nights...and tonight it was like a dagger piercing his heart. He waited until Abby was truly asleep and then he gently released her and slid out of bed. He walked to the kitchen, to the table, sitting in the same place where, just that morning, his world had fallen to pieces.

...and finally, Tim started to cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tony got to NCIS early and lay in wait for Tim's arrival. He needed to corral the wayward agent and get him to fall in with Tony's plans for making things hunky-dory again. Tim and Abby couldn't turn into a bickering couple. Besides, what he had said yesterday was true. Gibbs would start to take it out on Tim if Abby continued to be miserable. That meant that Tim would have to swallow his pride and cave to whatever it was that Abby wanted this time.

Tim just needed a third party to make that clear to him. Tony nodded to himself and settled down to wait.

He didn't have to wait long.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim took a deep breath and got out of his car. He and Abby had decided to go separately again today. ...or rather Tim had decided to go separately and Abby had docilely agreed. It wasn't that he couldn't stand being in the same small space as Abby. It was just that he needed the time alone. He needed to understand and when he thought about it, his mind just kept wandering around in painful circles, cycling between blaming himself because he wasn't exciting enough and blaming Abby because she was too flighty. ...and then the middle periods when he berated himself for both feelings because the two of them had gone into marriage with eyes wide open about each other's strengths and weaknesses.

Tim had known that Abby was high maintenance from the beginning. He had known that she could be petty. He also knew that she loved with all her heart...even if that meant that her mind was occasionally left behind. Abby did things for love that, upon sober reflection, seemed ludicrous. ...but Tim had known all of this and he loved Abby. He hadn't made any effort to change her. He knew he couldn't. ...but that thought always sent back around the circle. He knew what Abby was like. Abby knew what _he_ was like. If he wasn't good enough for her, then she shouldn't have married him in the first place.

The doors of NCIS loomed before him. He had always enjoyed the close relationships with his coworkers in the past (okay, not always), but right now he could wish for a less tightly-knit working environment. No matter what he had said to Abby, he wasn't looking forward to facing people's assumption that _he_ had done something wrong, not Abby. He wanted to shout that everything wasn't always _his_ fault...but it was childish and wouldn't solve the underlying problem. He just had to hope that things would go as usual and after a couple of days, they'd tire of talking about it.

One more deep breath and Tim went inside to face another day. Maybe there would be enough work that he could be so busy that he wouldn't think about it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Ah, McGee!" Tony said triumphantly when Tim stepped off the elevator...alone. "We need to talk. You are in desperate need of my help."

Tim's closed off expression should have warned him, but Tony was certain he could fix all that.

"No, I'm not, Tony."

"Yes, you are. You have landed in the proverbial doghouse, a place frequented by better and more experienced men than you."

Tim was stiff as Tony slung a companionable arm around his shoulders and directed him to his desk.

"I don't need any help from you, Tony."

"Yes, you do. Abby is apparently not happy with you. You have made her cry. The Boss doesn't like it when people make Abby cry. You will be in big trouble with the two people you should most avoid being in trouble with if you don't listen to my sage advice."

Tim pushed Tony's arm away...and then shoved Tony himself away a bit.

"Tony, if I ever wanted advice on how to insult someone, on how to jump to conclusions or how to be the biggest pain in the neck who ever walked the earth...then, I'll ask you. Otherwise, you can just butt out because you have no idea what you're talking about. Got it?"

Tony blinked in complete surprise.

"What is _up_ with you, McGee?"

"What's up with you? You don't know what's going on. You don't know anything. So shut up about it and leave me alone. Okay?"

"You're making a big mistake, Probie," Tony said. "Gibbs won't be happy."

"Well, he can suck it up and deal with it then."

"McGee...what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong except for you acting like the arrogant idiot you are." Tim spun on his heel and stalked away...but not down to Abby's lab, his usual place of refuge. He just walked away.

Tony was left feeling insulted, confused...and a little bit angry. He had been trying to help and Tim had acted very un-Tim-like and totally slammed him! Well, fine then. He'd get what he needed from Abby. She never kept secrets. She just couldn't do it, even when she wanted to. If Tim had been as foolish as Tony suspected, then she would be dying to tell _someone_ about it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim slammed the stall door shut in the men's room and breathed heavily. He hadn't been ready for that sudden anger. It was as if his brain had lost its filter and everything Tim had ever thought about Tony was spilling out unchecked. The worst of it was that Tim could see Tony thought he was helping. He just couldn't know how much he _wasn't_ helping. Well, if he was insulted enough, he might start ignoring him...and Tim could handle that. In fact, he would _welcome_ being ignored. He needed the time to figure all this out, to figure out how _he_ felt. He and Abby had to deal with this, but the others didn't.

Another deep breath, slower this time. Tony hadn't meant to be an idiot.

_...but why is it always my fault? Why is it always Abby and the world against me?_

It wasn't like that. Tim knew that. It was his hurt that was talking there, just as some buried anger must have been doing the talking with Tony. Then, as he had half-suspected would happen, he wanted to cry again. He had spent quite a while crying the night before...and then he had returned to bed and lay there for hours, feeling Abby's heart, feeling her steady even breathing. ...and wondering how in the world she could sleep with all this going on. He couldn't get his brain to stop thinking.

At some point, he _had_ slept but then awakened again before Abby had, before the alarm. ...and he had slipped out of bed, taken Jethro out for a quick jog and then got ready for the day. He and Abby had fallen easily into their morning routine, but there was a strained air about it that wouldn't go away for a while. He hoped it would someday.

He couldn't leave things like this with Tony. He knew it, but he didn't want to talk to Tony, to speak with him, to fend off his completely-misguided attempts to make something better that couldn't be better, not for a while.

_...but can I do this alone?_

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby reached the safety of her lab quickly and was relieved. Her hand was throbbing. She'd shut it in the drawer somehow when they were both running around that morning. Now, her knuckles were scratched and bruised. She laughed a little. It looked like she'd been in a boxing match.

Then, her smile faded. She didn't know how Tim was dealing with it. She felt as though every person who stared at her for more than a few seconds already knew what she'd done. She knew Tim wouldn't say anything, but she felt like she had the scarlet letter on her chest. ...only she couldn't claim to be like Hester Pringle and be hiding what happened to protect her lover. Tim was doing that. Not her. She was hiding behind Tim's protective nature. Like a coward.

She thought it through for a few more seconds and then sent a text message.

_Tim, we need to talk. Come down here, please._

There was a delay of a couple of minutes and then a reply.

_Now?_

Instantly, Abby answered.

_Yes. Now. Please?_

The response was quick and short.

_Okay. Coming._

Abby nodded to herself. She would make it better.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony headed into Abby's lab, intent on getting the story from her. She had someone managed to sneak by him whenever she got there, but he knew that she should be there now. He stopped when he heard voices.

"No, Abby. We already agreed!"

"But Tim!"

Oh, the two culprits. Tony stopped where he was and listened.

"No! They're all too involved as it is."

"I'm sorry I didn't hide it better," Abby said.

_Hide what?_ Tony wondered.

"They haven't called the cops yet. You're not doing too bad."

A weak laugh.

_Cops?_ Tony asked himself. _Why would they be saying that?_

"I feel like they're going to know anyway. It's like a...a glowing brand."

"They won't know. If you don't say anything and I don't say anything, they'll only suspect. It's not going to happen again, right?"

"Tim, how could you _ask_ that? Of course, not!"

Tim had never sounded so cold when talking to Abby before. The voices lowered and Tony couldn't hear everything, just a few muttered words and then there was a crash and Tony lurched forward a bit, ready to go in and see what was happening. He stopped when he heard Tim's voice, again loud and commanding.

"Abby, that's final! It's my call, remember? Not yours! Besides, I'm the one who stands to suffer from it, okay?"

Abby actually whimpered a little.

"I don't want you to suffer from it. You shouldn't!"

"They probably wouldn't believe it anyway. Abby, I know you want to run to Gibbs every time, but this time... I know you don't want him to know and I don't want him to know either."

A pause. Then, Abby cried out.

"Tim, that hurt!"

There was another pause and then Abby started crying. Tim only sighed.

Slowly, Tony backed away as an impossible thought began to form in his head. He didn't like it and he wanted to reject it right away, but he couldn't. He needed to talk to someone...not Gibbs who would likely blow a gasket at the suggestion.

He reached the elevator and headed up to the bullpen, hoping that Ziva would be there.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim kissed Abby's swollen knuckles and wiped away her tears.

"All better?" Tim asked.

"No. Doesn't heal that quickly."

Tim nodded. "Neither will we, Abbs. I know you want a quick fix, but it's not going to happen. Give me a few more days and then we'll see what else needs to happen."

"Okay. I'll trust you, Tim."

"Okay."

Abby flung her arms around him. "I love you, Tim."

Tim hesitated just long enough that they both noticed it. "I love you, too, Abbs."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Ziva! Come here!" Tony said, gesturing urgently.

"What, Tony? I must finish this..."

"Now!"

Ziva looked at him in surprise and then followed him. They walked to the elevator and then stopped it right as the doors closed.

"What are you doing, Tony? What is going on?"

"Do you... Do you think that McGee would ever..."

"What, Tony?" Ziva said, a little exasperated. "I told you that you should leave them to figure out their own problems."

"What if McGee...I don't know...hit Abby or something like that?"

Ziva looked at Tony in shock. "Why would you think such a thing? McGee would not abuse Abby! He would not abuse anyone!"

"I tried to talk to him when he got here this morning and he was...really really mad. I mean, I was actually worried by how mad he was. Then, I was going to go and talk to Abby and..."

"Tony, you need a hobby," Ziva said and reached out to turn the elevator back on.

Tony grabbed her hand.

"Abby started crying and McGee was almost shouting at her, talking about us calling the cops if we knew. Abby said she should have hid it better. ...and the way McGee was talking... Ziva, it wasn't normal fighting!"

"And so you assume that he has _hit_ her? Tony, I am shocked that you would assume that was the problem."

"I'm not assuming anything. This isn't a normal fight, Ziva. Abby is crying all over the place, McGee is majorly irritated at anyone asking _anything_ about what is going on. They've never fought like this."

Ziva turned the elevator back on. "I refuse to believe that abuse is the explanation to make it clear. If they do not wish to tell us, we should respect their privacy."

"And if I'm right?"

"You are not right. Do not even suggest this to Gibbs," Ziva said and stalked off the elevator. "He will not wait to understand either."

Tony followed her off the elevator and Tim came up a few minutes later. He said nothing to either of them but started to work. When Gibbs arrived, Tim only looked up briefly and maintained his silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Ducky walked out of NCIS at the end of the day and, to his surprise, saw Tim standing alone near the U.S.S. Barry. He looked around but Abby was nowhere to be found.

"Timothy!"

Tim looked back over his shoulder and smiled, but Ducky could see that it was a hard-won smile.

"Hey, Ducky. The day is over."

"Yes, and night is drawing nigh."

"What?"

"A hymn by Sabine Baring-Gould. 'Now the day is over. Night is drawing nigh. Shadows of the evening steal across the sky.'"

"I don't know it."

"It is quite a lovely hymn. Simple and poignant."

"It sounds nice."

"Is something troubling you?"

Tim smiled again, but more sarcastically. "Don't tell me you haven't heard what everyone is saying."

"Should I have?"

"I can't believe that Tony didn't talk to you."

"I have been in and out today, I'm afraid. I'm not on the receiving end of any gossip."

"Really?" Tim actually looked a bit hopeful.

"I promise. Is something going on?"

"Yes. ...but I don't want to talk about it."

"Very well. Is there anything I can do in my ignorance?"

Tim smiled and it was a genuine smile this time.

"How do you...deal with betrayal, Ducky?"

"In what respect?"

"Any."

"I suppose you have to make your peace with it in some way. It depends on the situation. Sometimes, retribution is warranted. Other times it isn't. Sometimes, it's possible to be repaid for it. Other times, not."

"Is it okay to be really mad about it?"

"Certainly, although how you react to your anger could be unhealthy. Are you angry?"

"More now than I was this morning. ...and I wish I wasn't. It was better when I just felt depressed by it."

"So this is definitely about you yourself?"

Tim sighed and started to walk back toward the park, although not at a pace which indicated he wanted to be left alone. So...Ducky followed him. Tim sat down on a bench.

"Yes, it's about me. Can't deny that. Even if you haven't heard today, you will later."

"What will I hear?" Ducky asked, sitting down beside him.

"That McGee is in the wrong again and that he's hurt Abby's feelings or stuck his foot in his mouth and has been punished for it, that McGee and Abby are fighting and obviously, McGee needs to apologize for whatever he did so that everything is okay again. That's what you're going to hear."

"Is it the truth?"

"No," Tim said flatly.

"Are you going to tell me what the truth is?"

"No. Abby and I have to work it out ourselves and it's no one else's business."

"Certainly, it's not, but you don't seem to be doing a good job of hiding it."

"I'm not, but when I tell them to leave it alone, why can't they just leave it alone?"

Ducky smiled tolerantly. "Because they're concerned, Timothy."

"Well, they're not helping. ...especially Tony is not helping. I know Gibbs is going to start glaring at me if Abby keeps crying...which she will. She's no good at hiding what she feels, even if the reasons for it aren't obvious."

"Since everyone can see that something is wrong, why not just tell them?" Ducky asked, reasonably.

"Because it's not their business!" Tim said, bristling. "This is something private between Abby and myself and it has nothing to do with _any_ of them!" He sighed. "...and it's not my fault."

Ducky put his hand on Tim's back. "I can't give you marriage advice, lad, never having experienced the institution myself."

"I wasn't expecting you to. You couldn't help with this anyway."

"What _do_ you want from me?"

Tim sat up and looked at Ducky. "Could you...just not blame me?"

"I don't know what I'd be blaming you for."

"That doesn't stop Tony...or Gibbs. Ziva, whatever she thinks, is at least keeping it to herself."

"Well, I'm not Tony nor am I Gibbs," Ducky said but he caught the hint of desperation in Tim's eyes, wanting just one person not to blame him for whatever was going on. "...but I promise that I will not put the onus on you."

"Thanks, Ducky. I just need one person. Abby doesn't, of course...but...everyone else will...unless I tell them what's going on, and I can't do that. I just can't...do that to Abby."

"The truth being known will hurt Abigail?" Ducky asked in surprise.

"I'm not going to tell you, Ducky. I told Abby that she couldn't tell anyone, and I'm not going to make myself an exception to the agreement."

"That is admirable, Timothy," Ducky said, "but if you change your mind, I'm always willing to be a listening ear."

"I won't," Tim said, but not meanly, just earnestly. "I couldn't do that to Abby. Actually, I'd better go. I told her I'd pick up dinner again tonight. Neither of us felt like cooking."

Ducky rose as Tim stood up.

"Timothy."

"Yeah, Ducky?"

"Privacy is important in a marriage, I definitely agree. ...but be careful that you don't let it turn into secrecy or repression. That's not good for anyone involved. Including you."

Tim smiled ruefully. "It's not a secret between us, Ducky. That's the most important thing. Everyone else...it doesn't affect them, but spreading it around _will_ affect us. I don't want it known."

"Have a good evening, Timothy."

"I'll try, Ducky."

Tim turned and walked away. Ducky sat down after he left and considered. What could be so serious that Tim and Abby both would be so deeply affected, something that must be inherently shameful...not only to Abby. Tim seemed ashamed of what had happened as well. ...but it was also something that had driven Abby to tears, something that Tim said wasn't his fault. Ducky was willing to believe Tim on that score considering the situation. Then, the desire to keep it secret, the obvious hurt and anger Tim was feeling. He sat thinking and after a few minutes he hit on what he felt was the obvious answer. Betrayal. The ultimate betrayal that could occur between a husband and wife. ...and it wasn't Tim's fault.

"Oh, Timothy," Ducky said, looking in the direction where Tim had vanished from view.

He understood, now, why Tim didn't want what had happened to be known. He didn't want Abby stigmatized...but he also didn't want himself to be open to ridicule, even if it was sympathetic ridicule. Tim had his own sense of pride, and falling victim to infidelity carried with it a bit of tendency to wonder what the man had done to cause his wife to stray. Ducky couldn't guess the circumstances, but neither seemed inclined toward divorce. That in itself was a hopeful sign. Perhaps, they could indeed work through whatever had occurred and not fall prey to the sad dissolution of a wonderful relationship. It had happened to many, but Tim and Abby might be able to hang onto their love.

Tim's anger seemed more about the injustice surrounding the need to keep his private life private than it was directed at Abby...but if the prying, well-meaning members of the MCRT continued to try and fix something they couldn't possibly fix, that anger could fester and grow worse. How could he insinuate that this was a private matter that didn't need outside interference without tipping his hand? Ducky wasn't certain. He hoped, for Tim and Abby's sakes, that it would quickly pass, but he feared that it wouldn't.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"How did you say you did this, Abbs?" Tim asked as he looked at Abby's hand after dinner that evening.

"I really don't know, Tim," Abby said. "I was running around getting my things together and I slammed it in the drawer. It really hurt."

"I'm sure. I'm sorry I grabbed your hand. I didn't notice it."

Abby reached out and stroked Tim's cheek. "It's okay. I should have said something."

Tim put his hand over hers for a moment, but he didn't look up at her. "Does it still hurt?"

"A little, but it's not bad. It was just the bruise and when you grabbed my hand..."

"Maybe you should get it looked at, if it still hurts now."

"No bones are broken, Tim. I think I'd notice that. I just bruised it a little bit."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Abby hesitated and then spoke. "Tim, I went to confession today, on the way home."

"Do you feel better?"

"Not really, but I had to tell Father Thomas about it. Sister Rosita didn't need to know but...it's confession! I needed to."

"Abby, I'm not going to yell at you for going to confession. I know that's important to you."

"You said we weren't going to tell anyone."

"A priest is a little different from Tony."

Abby slid off the couch and knelt in front of Tim.

"Will you look at me, Tim?" she asked.

Tim looked up and she saw the pain in his eyes.

"Do you still love me?" she asked.

"Yes, Abbs. I do."

Abby noticed that he'd spoken with little inflection and that he didn't ask her back. Was he afraid of the answer? ...was she?

"What are we going to do tomorrow? It's the weekend. We're off duty."

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten," Tim said. He looked out back. "We were going to see if we could get some of your black roses to grow in the garden. We could still try that. There's that plant shop that looked promising."

"Are you sure you still want to?"

"Why not? This is still our home, no matter what's going on."

"I'm trying to think about a good reason for what I did, Tim...a good explanation. I just...I can't think of one."

"Okay." Tim sat back and looked at her. "Is it worth it?"

"What?" Abby asked, feeling afraid.

"This. Trying to get back what we had. Do you think it's worth it?"

"Don't you?"

"Yes... but sometimes...this feels like a dream."

"You mean a nightmare?" Abby asked, miserably.

"No, I mean everything that came before. Our wedding...our honeymoon...getting the house...being married. It feels like it was a beautiful dream and now I have to wake up and face reality."

Without thinking, Abby grabbed Tim and held him tightly, afraid of what he was saying.

"No, Tim. _That_ was reality. I mean...this isn't really a nightmare, even if it feels like one. We're both awake but...but...it's not the way things are supposed to be! It isn't! It's supposed to be like it was before and...and I screwed it up. Please, Tim, don't give up! Not already! It's only been a couple of days!"

Tim hugged her back, but he didn't say anything. He spent the rest of the evening in the den, supposedly writing, but she never heard the typewriter. Their spending hours apart in the evening wasn't uncommon. They had agreed that sometimes, it was good to be alone, as long as that didn't become the norm, as long as it didn't turn into them being more like roommates. They were still separate individuals, even bound into one couple. Sometimes, they would want to do different things. So Tim had his writing room and Abby would often read in there with him or else she had even gone to a concert with friends before, to a group Tim didn't like. It wasn't as fun as it used to be. She had always found herself wondering what Tim was doing, wanting him to be desperately missing her...and it had been disappointing when she had come back late one night and found him in bed. ...even though she had told him not to wait up for her because he'd been really tired.

Abby walked to the door of the den and tried to make herself open the door...or knock on the door...or something. ...but she couldn't do it. She wanted to know what Tim was doing in there...but she was afraid to know what Tim was doing in there. She hadn't ever seen him cry. Not once. Was he crying? What if he was? What could she possibly do to make him feel better? Nothing she did seemed to help. She had known couples who broke up due to infidelity. She had always been upset on behalf of the injury party. Always.

_How could I become one of _those_ people?_ It didn't make sense to her. She wasn't the kind of person who would intentionally do something like this, but she couldn't really use the alcohol as an excuse because she knew that she hadn't been very drunk. She remembered every moment of that night, no matter how much she had tried to forget it.

She touched the door but she couldn't bring herself to knock. Instead, she went up to bed and waited for Tim to come and join her.

She fell asleep before he joined her in bed.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim wasn't typing. He wasn't crying. He was sitting on the floor, trying to figure out what he was going to do, how he was going to tolerate all this crap going on around him. He just didn't know for sure.

Tony had been staring at him all day. Ziva had glanced a few times but said nothing. Gibbs had begun the glaring because Abby was still tearful even if not outright crying. He wished she could hold the tears in, but while she wasn't a big crier, she had _never_ been good about hiding how she felt. He knew she felt bad about all this. He knew that she felt bad _now_. Had she regretted it right after? Or had it taken a day or two for the guilt to set in? Was it when she first saw him or had the memory of him been enough? More importantly, would it happen again? Tim hoped not, but how could he know? He hadn't thought it could happen _once_, but now that it had, could it happen again?

These were the thoughts that kept him from settling, kept him from wanting to see Abby tonight. ...but he knew it couldn't last because that would invite the dangerous silence that he knew could destroy their marriage...if it wasn't already.

He'd kept his own secrets, too. He hadn't told Abby why his phone had died. Not because it was shameful or illegal, but because it was embarrassing. He had dropped it...and then driven over top of it without realizing until it was too late. He had dashed to a store to replace the phone as quickly as he could, but hadn't been able to do so until the next morning. There weren't any messages in his voice mail, and he had been able to restore most of his apps with his SIM card which had, thankfully, survived the destruction. It took time, and Tony had enjoyed teasing him, but there was nothing else significant that had happened until two days after. That was the day Abby had come back...and he had sensed that something was wrong. For one thing, she hadn't said a single word about his being out of contact. That seemed wrong.

He hadn't know just _how_ wrong until...

Tim sighed and looked at the clock. He should go to bed. It was really late. He hoped that doing things together, making life as normal as possible would help heal him, help mend his broken heart.

...but was that really normal? Was normalcy even _possible_ now?

That was the real problem: Tim just didn't know if the effort would lead to anything. Not now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Monday morning..._

"Abby you look terrible," Tim said. "Maybe you should stay home. You're going to have to run around all day and I know your arm is still hurting."

Abby grimaced. "I know. I still feel really stupid. You warned me that I shouldn't try to climb the shelves, but would I listen?"

Tim actually smiled. "I never could get you to listen to reason." He touched the edge of her black eye gently. "They have people who are _supposed_ to get stuff from the top shelf, you know."

"I know. You think I've never been to Home Depot before? I've seen the forklifts...but I thought I could do it. Obviously, I was wrong."

"How are you feeling? Really, Abbs."

Abby smiled. "I feel fine. I'd have been a lot worse if you hadn't been there to catch me. Just because you were a bit overeager to keep me from hitting the floor..."

Tim shook his head and then looked toward the backyard. He walked over and looked out the window. "The roses look nice, though."

Abby came and joined him, sliding an arm around his waist. Things weren't _normal_ by any means, but she had liked the time they'd spent together this weekend. Some awkward conversations had been tempered by fun moments...like going to Home Depot to look at some stuff for the backyard...and Abby deciding that she would rather climb up the shelves than wait for someone to come and help them. Buying black roses at a specialty plant shop. Spending Sunday (after Mass, Abby felt she needed the spiritual uplift a bit more) working together in the yard, planting the roses, setting up a large pot for a couple of other plants. Tim had become a bit less withdrawn. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even great, but it was better, and Abby hoped it was a sign of things getting better in general...without too many extra problems.

"They do look nice. ...you did a good job, Tim. They're in a good spot."

Tim looked at her with a just a bit of surprise but didn't say anything.

_Do I compliment him that rarely?_ Abby wondered.

"Do you want to take your own car today, Tim?" Abby asked and then immediately regretted it as Tim tensed up at the mention of returning to NCIS, the reminder of what was going on in their life.

"No...but today, I'd better. There's that huge review going on this week and I just know that I'll have to stay late...probably every night. That doesn't even count if we get a case. I have no idea how long I'll be there. Otherwise...I think I'd come with you."

"You think?"

Tim smiled. "Don't push it, Abbs."

"Okay, I won't. I guess I can let everyone sympathize over my injuries. It looks like I've been in a fight...and I lost."

"You certainly lost the fight with the display," Tim said, easing away from her. "I don't recommend a rematch."

"Yes, sir," Abby said, saluting even though Tim's obvious withdrawal hurt. "Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we need to talk...tonight."

Was it just her imagination or did he look relieved?

"Okay. Tonight."

"No matter how late it is when you get back, I'll be here. I promise."

"Okay." Tim reached out, took her bruised and scraped arm and kissed the wound. "All better?"

"That's only a myth."

"I know. It doesn't hurt to believe though. See you later."

"Lunch?"

"I don't think so."

"Please?"

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Maybe. We'll see."

"Okay."

Tim left and a few seconds later, Abby heard his car pull out. She looked at herself in the mirror. Black eye, scraped and bruised arm. She had another bruise on her back from Tim's knee when he tried to catch her. He had been really scared that she was seriously injured. Yes, she had learned her lesson. The hard way. Big surprise. She sighed and left, knowing she'd have to explain to everyone how she had acted really dumb. She actually would like to avoid that part, but if she were honest, Tim's concern, his attention had been so wonderful that she didn't even mind it much. For a brief moment, all had been normal.

Still, what she had done loomed too large. She wished it would go away, but it couldn't. She wanted to force it to be forgotten but had (mostly) accepted that it wouldn't be for a while.

One thing Abby was _not_ looking forward to was telling the others how silly she'd been. Climbing up the shelves...just not her most brilliant moment.

...but NCIS called and she had work to do. So Abby stuck her tongue out at her battered reflection and then followed Tim to work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim didn't want to go into work. He had managed to find some measure of equilibrium over the weekend. There had been entire minutes passing when he didn't remember what Abby had done, moments when he had been able to react as he had such a short time ago. Maybe the weekend would have been enough time for the others to forget about the "argument". Probably not. He just wanted things to be normal, but he was afraid that it would never happen.

Maybe he and Abby could just take a few days off to spend together and figure things out. Maybe he was being unreasonable to try and keep everything normal while trying to deal with something utterly _un_normal. ...maybe he could talk to Ducky about it. Surely, Ducky could be discreet and not treat Abby with any amount of disrespect...and Ducky would believe him. Abby had told her priest and that wouldn't ever get spread around, but Tim didn't really have a priest. He wasn't Catholic, although he often attended with Abby. Ducky in Autopsy would be the closest he could get to a confessional. Tim smiled to himself and had to admit that the idea was appealing to him. He didn't need to give details, just tell Ducky what had happened and ask if he was doing the right thing. He'd like to know that much.

Tim got out of his car and looked around. Ducky's car was parked. He could go into Autopsy now and talk if he hurried. Then, he wouldn't have to worry about someone else coming in. He was early and he didn't see Tony's car or Ziva's car. It looked like Gibbs was there, but he wasn't usually in Autopsy this early, not without a case going. More convinced than ever, Tim hurried into NCIS, hoping that he could confide in just one person and get some indication of what he should do.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby's car started acting up as she drove toward NCIS. She glared at it, angry at her beloved Model A. She hadn't had any trouble with her vehicle since she'd given up the hearse. Today was not the day to be late to work...but she didn't want to have to tow it somewhere. She grimaced and reluctantly changed course and headed for her mechanic. When she got there, she told them about the strange sound in the engine and the hard brakes. They couldn't fix it right away, but she had figured that would be the case. She didn't want to call Tim and get him to backtrack and pick her up...but Ziva lived close by...relatively speaking.

"Ma'am?"

"Yeah?" Abby asked.

"Do you want us to arrange a taxi?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No. A friend will be coming to get me." She pulled out her phone and dialed.

"_Ziva David."_

"Ziva! It's Abby. Have you left for work yet?"

"_Not as yet. Why?"_

"My car has gone kerplunk and I need a ride to NCIS."

"_Why did you not call McGee?"_

"He left early and I don't want him to have to come all the way out here to get me. It's actually kind of on your way in. Could you give me ride?"

"_Certainly. What is the address?"_

Abby quickly gave her the address and then settled on a bench to wait. Ziva arrived ten minutes later and she gave her a long stare. Abby flushed a little bit since she knew what Ziva was looking at and got in the car.

"Abby, what happened?"

"Nothing. Long story," she said, deciding not to elaborate right now. Telling the story once would be enough.

"How long?"

"Just...long. Embarrassing. It was my own fault," she said laughing a little.

Ziva did not laugh.

"Don't worry. Nothing is broken. Just my pride."

"If you are sure."

"It looks a lot worse than it is. Promise."

"Very well." Ziva put the car in gear and headed to NCIS.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Timothy, what brings you to my domain so early in the morning?"

"You said you'd lend a listening ear, Ducky," Tim said.

Ducky turned around. "Of course, lad."

"Jimmy's not here?"

"No. He's on shift today at the hospital. I am alone."

"Good. You won't tell anyone else?"

"You may be assured of my secrecy."

"Not even Gibbs?"

"Of course not, Timothy. Not if you do not wish it."

"And you won't treat Abby any differently?"

"I will endeavor to treat her as I always do."

Tim nodded and sat down. "Abby...she..."

"Betrayed your trust?" Ducky suggested.

"It goes beyond that."

"She slept with another man."

Tim jerked his head up. "How...How did you–?"

"You gave me all the clues. I simply put them together in a way that made sense."

Tim gave a rueful smile. "That's what I did...when I found out. Then, when I asked her, she told me everything, didn't even try to hide it."

"I imagine that it was hard to take in."

"Yeah."

"Difficult to understand?"

"Yeah."

"And now you don't know what to do about it?"

"Yeah."

Ducky smiled gently. "I don't know that I can give you any advice on that score."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby and Ziva stepped off the elevator together and Abby headed across the bullpen.

"Thanks for the ride, Ziva," she said and went down to her lab.

Tony looked after her with wide eyes.

"What happened to Abby?" he asked Ziva.

"She did not say, only that it was her own fault and that only her pride was hurt."

"Ziva!"

"Tony...would Abby not tell us if McGee was abusing her? Do you really think she would take it? Abby does not even accept it when people forget her birthday." Ziva smiled slightly.

"This isn't a joke, Ziva."

"I know it is not, but I do not believe you are correct in what you think."

"If it wasn't bad, then why wouldn't she tell you what happened?"

"She said it was a long story."

Tony shook his head. "Gibbs needs to know about this."

"Know about _what_?" Ziva asked. "You know nothing! You are only making guesses."

"Hypotheses that fit all the evidence. This is what we do for a living, Ziva. Remember?"

"Yes, and I remember that we often are wrong when we first make our hypothesis about what happened. You have made a hypothesis. You could easily be mistaken. Do _not_ tell Gibbs."

"Abby is like Gibbs'...weird daughter slash friend. He needs to know what could be going on!"

"He will not stop to ask if you say that about McGee, Tony."

"Yeah, he will. This is the boss! Of course, he'll ask Abby. But Abby won't be able to hide it from him. He can ask and then we'll know the truth!"

"Why not just ask Abby yourself?"

"Because she won't tell me, but she'll _have_ to tell Gibbs. He's her protector, right?"

"Tony...this is a bad idea... It may be one of your worst."

Tony ignored her and stood up. "Boss, I need to talk to you...in your office."

Gibbs stared at him.

"It's about Abby...and McGee."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I was think of talking to Abby about taking some time off," Tim said. "I'm just not sure I can deal with this and work. Maybe we could get farther if I didn't have to come here and deal with everyone every day. What do you think?"

Ducky smiled. "I think you are showing remarkable restraint and concern."

Tim shook his head. "No, Ducky. It's nothing admirable. I just love Abby and I... even though _I'm_ really hurt by all this... her getting denounced as...unfaithful. That wouldn't make anything better. It doesn't make sense to spread it around."

"Perhaps not, but many have not worried about what made sense."

"Call me a hopeless romantic," Tim said. "Abby still loves me, too."

"I am sure she does."

Tim was silent for a long minute, deciding whether or not to ask the question that was burning in his mind and had been from the first moment he had suspected Abby's infidelity.

"Then, why did she do it?" Tim asked. "What did I do wrong?"

Ducky sat beside Tim and gave him a brief one-armed hug.

"It's not about what _you_ did wrong, Timothy. As you told me, this is not your fault. It is a decision that Abigail made. It was a bad decision, but you cannot blame it on yourself."

"But maybe...maybe if I had done something different, maybe she wouldn't have..."

"No, Timothy, you can't think like that. If you do wish to repair your frayed relationship, you must not think that you could somehow go back in time and fix things. You must acknowledge the present and work forward from that point."

"But I can't be blameless."

"Not knowing the details...which I won't press you for...I couldn't venture to say. Even if you do bear some blame, wishing to change the past won't help. You still need to acknowledge what happened and move on."

Tim's phone beeped. He looked at it.

"Weird."

"What?"

"Gibbs called me up to the lab...but he just sent a text message rather than calling me. I didn't know he even knew _how_ to send a message." Tim stood up. "Thanks for letting me talk to you, Ducky. I feel a little better just knowing that someone is sympathetic."

"You may trust that I'll keep your secret until such time as you release me from it."

"Thank you, Ducky," Tim said and then headed up to the lab. He couldn't believe how much less the weight in his chest was from that simple moment of confession. Maybe he understood a little why Abby had felt the need to do the same thing.

He walked into Abby's lab.

"Hey, Boss...what–?"

He didn't get any further than that. The fist flew at his face and he, in turn, flew backward, crashing into something hard...something that shattered. He fell to the floor in a shower of glass shards and blacked out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Abby ran out of her office when she heard the commotion.

"Gibbs, what..." She saw Tim lying on the floor, motionless, covered with glass from her broken fridge door. She looked at Gibbs. "What's going _on_?"

"You tell me, Abbs," Gibbs said, angrily. "How did that happen?" He pointed at her eye.

"I hit it on a shelf on Saturday," Abby said in shock. She moved toward Tim, but Gibbs grabbed her.

"What _happened_, Abby? Tell me the truth!"

Abby looked at Gibbs in complete confusion and then over at Tony who looked slightly guilty...and Ziva who was standing behind him looking concerned and a bit disgusted.

"I _am_ telling you the truth, Gibbs! I don't lie to you!" she said. "What do you think I'm not telling you?"

"Abby, I heard you and Tim talking last week," Tony said.

"Yeah, about _what_?" Abby asked and tried to get to Tim again but Gibbs held onto her.

"Abby, you can tell me what happened," Gibbs said. "What did McGee do?"

Abby looked at him, still confused, and then her eyes widened...and then narrowed. She pulled away from Gibbs roughly.

"How dare you, Gibbs!" she said. "How dare you think that...that Tim would hurt me!" She looked at Tony. "And you! Did _you_ think that?" She knelt down beside Tim who had started to groan. "Tim? Can you hear me? Tim? I think he's really hurt, Gibbs. I think you really hurt him!"

"I will call Ducky," Ziva said softly and pulled out her phone.

"Thanks, Ziva!"

"Abby...those bruises," Tony said weakly.

"I told you! I hit my face on a shelf on Saturday...and I hit my arm on a display on the way down! I was climbing the shelves in Home Depot because I wasn't smart enough to wait for an employee. Tim _caught_ me, kept me from hitting the ground! How could you think that Tim would hit me?"

"Abby?" Tim said faintly from the floor. His eyes opened slightly and then closed again.

"Tim?"

"Abby...what...happened..."

Abby looked at the floor and gasped.

"Tim, you're bleeding!" Abby said plaintively.

The doors to the lab opened and Ducky entered, carrying his doctor's bag. He stopped for a moment and looked at the scene.

"What just happened here?"

Angrily, Abby piped up. "Gibbs punched Tim!"

"Jethro!" Ducky said reprovingly.

"He and Tony thought Tim was _abusing_ me!" Abby added.

Ducky looked at Abby. "The bruises?"

"Yes, but it wasn't from Tim! None of them!"

"You were arguing," Tony said. "I heard you cry!"

"I didn't think they were," Ducky said, as if Tony hadn't spoken, and knelt beside Abby. "Timothy, can you open your eyes for me?"

Tim did manage to crack them open. He looked at Ducky and then moved his eyes to Abby.

"...abused you?" he mumbled.

"It was a huge, humongous, _stupid_ mistake, Tim!" Abby said quickly, glaring up at Gibbs as she never had before. "Don't even think about it."

"Okay," Tim said, proving just how out of it he was.

Ducky checked Tim's eyes for dilation and then the back of his head and Tim winced when Ducky touched the place where Tim's head had made contact with the fridge.

"Oh, dear. I think this will require stitches."

Tim tried to open his eyes again. "Gibbs...punched me. Why?"

"Because he's _stupid_," Abby said fiercely.

"Timothy, I think we need to get you to an emergency room. You need stitches and I do believe you have a concussion."

"Concussion?" Tim repeated, trying to look at Ducky but his eyes wouldn't focus. "Why?"

"Don't worry about that right now, Timothy. Let's just work on getting you upright. Ziva, if you would be so good?"

Ziva nodded and helped Abby and Ducky sit Tim up. He didn't seem able to go any further than that; so they paused, Ducky holding a bandage to the back of Tim's head.

"Why would you think that Timothy could possibly have done that, Jethro? ...and even if you did, whatever possessed you to think that this was the appropriate response?" Ducky asked severely.

Abby shook her head. "It's my fault," she whimpered.

"No...Abby," Tim said, obviously trying to focus but failing. He slumped back against Ziva forcing her to hold him upright.

"Tim, this is _wrong_! You keep getting hurt because of me!"

"I don't understand," Tony said.

Abby sprang to her feet, a ball of fury, turning from Tony to Gibbs and back again, unable to focus on either one for very long.

"That's _right_! You didn't understand! That didn't stop you from going _way_ off base and poking your nose in where you didn't belong! And it didn't stop _you_, Gibbs, from assuming the worst about my _husband_ and punching him out without even giving him a chance to defend himself! You make me _sick_! ...the only person who makes me more sick is...is..._me_!"

"Abby!" Tim said, getting a bit more aware. He struggled to sit up again. "Don't."

Abby turned back to Tim. "No, Tim. I have been letting you take it, all of it...and you shouldn't have! I shouldn't have let you! You didn't do anything wrong! It was me. It was all me. Tim and I were arguing...because..."

"Abby..." Tim said once more, feebly trying to stop her. He even reached out a hand toward her.

"...because I had sex with a guy at the conference I went to! I had an affair...and Tim was trying to make sure that none of you knew so you wouldn't be angry with me or put me down because of it!"

There was a long silence. Tears were running down Abby's cheeks, mixing with her mascara as her tears always did.

"I did that to Tim and he has been trying to keep it from everyone, trying to protect me...like he always does! ...and what do _you _do? You think that Tim, who has never given you _any_ reason to think that of him...you think that he would hit me! You make me sick! Gibbs, you're supposed to be smarter than that. You're supposed to know better! ...and Tony, Tim is your _friend_! You've worked with him for more than seven years! How could you? ...but how could I? How could I let Tim do that for me? How could I keep quiet and let everyone think that Tim was the one who had done something wrong?" Abby knelt beside Tim again. "The only thing you did wrong, Tim, was to try and protect me from what I should have felt! I'm so sorry, Tim." She flung her arms around him and held him tightly.

Tim slumped against her, his eyes closing again.

"Timothy, do you think you could stand?"

"Not by myself, I...don't think..." Tim mumbled.

"We will help you," Ducky said.

Tony made a slight motion forward. Abby was having none of it.

"You're not going to _touch_ him, Tony! Neither are _you_, Gibbs!" Abby said, her arms still protectively around Tim. "Ziva, will you?"

"Yes, Abby," Ziva said softly. "I will."

Abby shot an evil eye at Tony and Gibbs. "Tim doesn't need people like you trying to help him...because you're more likely to hurt him!" Tears were still running down Abby's cheeks as Ducky and Ziva helped her get Tim upright. His head lolled about and he leaned heavily on the trio supporting him.

"I'm going to the hospital with Tim. I'll let _you_ tell Vance why I'm not here, Gibbs!" Abby said and then led the way out of the lab, leaving Tony and Gibbs alone.

"Didn't you talk to Abby, Boss?" Tony asked after a long pause.

"No."

Tony swallowed and nodded. "I was wrong."

"We were both wrong."

"This is bad, Boss."

"Yep."

"No, I mean _really_ bad. This isn't just about McGee anymore. This is...bad."

"I know."

Tony was quiet for a moment.

"Ziva was right. I should have kept my mouth shut."

Gibbs didn't say anything.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The ride over to the hospital was a blur to Tim who tried in vain to focus. His head kept spinning around and around...and it hurt. A lot. Abby was sitting right beside him the whole way, holding his hand while Ducky fussed over his head. He didn't really understand any of the words they were saying, but he was grateful for the comfort of having them close by. There was something else that was extremely troubling...something he couldn't quite remember...but something that he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to remember.

"Did you know what Tony thought, Ziva?" Abby asked.

"Yes."

"Did you believe him?"

"I did not want to. I tried to tell him not to tell Gibbs what he suspected. He would not listen to me."

"You were considering it?"

"Only as one possible explanation for why you had been so upset and why you were hiding the nature of your injuries. I felt it was not a likely possibility."

"...but you considered it?"

"Abigail."

"No, Ducky! These are supposed to be Tim's _friends_! They're supposed to _know_ him! They're not supposed to think he's some sort of scummy wife beater!"

That was the disturbing thing. Gibbs had punched him because he thought Tim had punched or hit or something...that he had abused Abby.

"Nevertheless, do not let your own guilt make more of the faults of others than is necessary."

"No, Ducky," Ziva said. "I assumed as Tony did that Abby and McGee had been fighting, and I assumed that McGee had said something foolish, probably harmless, but enough to create the current situation. I did not even consider that it might have been Abby who had done something wrong. She is right to be angry with me."

Tim felt himself drifting away again and he didn't try to stay awake. The more he heard, the worse he felt.

He did want an answer to the question that just wouldn't leave him alone, though. He struggled to open his eyes once more and he found himself looking into Abby's eyes...his wife's eyes.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he asked...but he didn't hear Abby's reply...if there was one. He slipped back to unconsciousness again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"You didn't do anything, Tim," Abby said, still crying, as Tim's eyes closed again. "You didn't do anything!"

"I don't believe he heard you, Abigail, but you can repeat it later...and you should. Perhaps even more than once."

"Ducky...I can't believe this. I can't believe that this could happen...to Tim! He doesn't deserve to be treated like...like I let him be treated."

"Here is the hospital," Ziva said. "I will help you get him inside and then I will return to NCIS."

"I'll come with you, Ziva," Ducky said, "if you can manage, Abigail."

"I can manage. I want Vance to know what Gibbs did," Abby said.

"Are you certain, Abby?" Ziva asked. "That could be..."

"Gibbs punched my husband without talking to either one of us, without saying anything! He punched someone he should never have thought needed it! Gibbs did that! He's not getting away with it! I don't care if Tim doesn't want it to happen. I want Gibbs to face the consequences!"

"What about Tony?"

"Tony...didn't break any NCIS rules that I know about," Abby admitted, "but that doesn't mean I have to talk to him, see him or in any way acknowledge his existence! He eavesdropped! He made assumptions! ...and he thought something that he should never have thought! No, I'm not talking to Tony...and he's not talking to Tim for as long as I can prevent it."

Ziva started to speak again, but Ducky made eye contact with her in the rearview mirror and shook his head. She subsided, turning the car into the hospital emergency entrance. She helped get a stretcher out, Tim loaded onto it and taken inside. Abby gestured for them to leave when Tim was wheeled in.

"Will you really report on what Gibbs did?" Ziva asked.

"Yes," Ducky said firmly. "What Jethro did was wrong in every sense and it was motivated by nothing more than the favoritism so often displayed in NCIS. The only reason I myself was not taken in by it was my chance meeting with Timothy before I had heard the rumors circulating around the building. I do not think I'd have been immune from the usual tendency of taking Abigail's side in every quarrel had I heard of the other rumors first."

"He could be fired."

"Yes, it's true. He could be...but if this is how he chooses to deal with questions, perhaps it is better that he be fired than chance such an occurrence. I must confess that I have very little sympathy for Jethro's plight at the moment."

"He thought he was helping," Ziva said. "Tony thought he was doing the right thing."

"By making wild assumptions based on eavesdropping?" Ducky asked. "No, my dear, Anthony was _not_ helping. All the best intentions in the world can't change that what he did could not possibly have been worse. Just think, if you will, what could have happened to Timothy had Anthony decided to report his suspicions to the police. Timothy could have been arrested, could have lost his job...and his record would have been irrevocably tarnished...because one man heard and misconstrued a discussion between two people who were struggling with the worst a couple can face. I'm sorry, Ziva, but the saying is true: the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Look at how close Timothy came to it."

Ziva couldn't respond, and so she kept quiet all the way back to NCIS.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Ducky walked over to Gibbs' desk. He was much shorter than Gibbs, but at that moment seemed like a giant.

"Jethro, would you like to be with me when I report this to Director Vance?"

"Do I need to be?" Gibbs asked.

"You will at some point because you know as well as I that the Director will wish to speak with you about what happened this morning. And with Abigail declaring that she wouldn't be coming back today, you will need to explain your part."

Silently, Gibbs stood up, four inches taller than Ducky but somehow smaller.

"Wait," Tony said, standing up, too, very embarrassed. "This is my fault. I should be there, too."

"As you please," Ducky said and set off up the stairs, not looking back.

The only remaining member of the MCRT was Ziva who was sitting uncomfortably wondering how everything could have become so wrong so very fast.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Pamela called Vance on the phone, interrupting important but tedious work. An interruption could be a good thing.

"_Director, Dr. Mallard, Agent Gibbs and Agent DiNozzo are here to see you. It is apparently important."_

Vance sighed. Not good. Those three coming in together couldn't be a good sign. He wondered where the rest of the crew was at the moment...and why they weren't involved.

"_Director?"_

"Yes, send them in." He reluctantly set aside his preparations for a coming meeting with the SecNav.

"_Thank you, sir."_

The door opened and Vance evaluated the situation. It seemed that Ducky was in command. Very uncommon since Ducky was generally content to let others lead. This meant that he was definitely unhappy about something. Gibbs had his usual stone face on while Tony looked ashamed of himself. This was not going to be pleasant. The meeting with SecNav was looking better all the time.

"Well?" Vance asked.

No response at first.

"Have a seat and tell me what's going on."

They sat down but even Ducky seemed unsure of how to begin.

"I'm assuming that there is _something_ you all need to say to me. Not that I don't love staring at my employees all day."

Ducky cleared his throat. "Timothy and Abigail McGee will not be in for the rest of the day. I think it likely that, at some point, Abigail will come with a request for leave time for the both of them."

"Any particular reason for this?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that Agent Gibbs gave Agent McGee a concussion this morning," Ducky said bluntly.

Vance stared, first at Ducky and then at Gibbs who remained mute. There was the barest flicker of his gaze.

"How?" he asked.

"He punched him in the face, knocking him back into the specimen fridge. I'm afraid the door is broken and will need to be replaced."

Vance stared at Gibbs again. No reaction, just that incredibly annoying expression that was no expression at all. Vance wondered why he suddenly felt like an elementary school principal.

He tried to keep his voice reasonable although it was becoming more difficult. "And _why_ did Agent Gibbs find it necessary to punch his agent in the face?"

"Because I told him that I thought McGee might have been..." Tony trailed off into silence and stared at his lap.

Ducky finished for him. "Because Agent DiNozzo heard and misinterpreted a conversation between Timothy and Abigail and assumed that Timothy was abusing her."

"Excuse me?" Vance asked in surprise, looking at Tony.

"I thought McGee might be hitting Abby. ...and I told Gibbs about what I thought."

"And you searched for and then punched Agent McGee in the face based on the report of Agent DiNozzo?" Vance asked, staring at Gibbs now. "No attempt at verification? None at all? You didn't bother checking the facts, even with Mrs. McGee?"

Gibbs still stayed silent.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, Agent Gibbs!" Vance snapped. "Explain yourself!"

"I didn't look for him," Gibbs said, voice without inflection. In fact, his tone was almost dead. "I went to the lab, saw Abby and called McGee up to the lab. When he got there I hit him."

"Why would seeing Abby McGee send you on that track?"

"I'm afraid that there was a mishap over the weekend and Abigail came to work with a black eye and a bruised arm. She was embarrassed about how it happened and didn't wish to explain herself," Ducky said. "That, in conjunction with the belief Agent DiNozzo had already begun to hold, led to what he assumed was a certainty."

"And you, Agent Gibbs," Vance said, hearing the anger coming out in his voice. He didn't bother to suppress it. "You essentially _lured_ Agent McGee to the lab, gave him no warning, not even an accusation before attacking him? Would that be correct?"

"Yes."

"You abused your position as his supervisor, knowing that he would instantly come when you asked him to?"

"Yes."

"You gave him no chance to defend himself?"

"No."

"Did he even know why you had hit him?"

"No."

"What possessed you to think that you could do that and get away with it, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs blinked. _He lost the staring contest,_ Vance thought to himself.

"I wasn't worried about that."

Vance stood up. "I see. You were thinking only of the immediate present, only of your own anger and about nothing else. Did you even bother asking Mrs. McGee about it?"

"No."

"What exactly is your job here, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked at him without flinching, having regained the little composure he'd lost. "I'm a special agent."

"Doing what?"

"I investigate."

"Something that seems to have slipped your mind _entirely_. Are you unaware of how our justice system works?"

"No."

"Then, what in the world did you think you were doing when you chose to hit your agent without giving him the benefit of _anything_?"

"I was thinking that I was giving him a just punishment."

"And were you?"

"No. I was wrong."

"Yes. You were." Vance looked at Tony and Ducky. "Do you two have anything else to add?"

Tony stood up. "It's not all his fault, Director. I'm the one who told him."

"Did you hit Agent McGee, Agent DiNozzo?"

"No."

"Then, I can't, in good conscience, give you any punishment for your part in this since you have not violated any NCIS rules. You will have to make your peace with the McGees...if you can. Dismissed."

Tony nodded and walked out of the room, shoulders slumped.

"Dr. Mallard, do you know Agent McGee's current condition?"

"Not at the moment, but if my on-site evaluation is correct, he suffered a concussion, a rather serious one and will need stitches from the impact with the fridge door. He lost consciousness twice. Once right after the incident and once on the way to the hospital. He will more than likely need a CT scan and will definitely not be up to working for a few days."

Again, a slight twitch from the otherwise-stoic Gibbs.

"Completely understandable. If you see them before I do, let them know that I am more than willing to give him the time he needs to recover."

"Thank you, Director."

"Is that all, Dr. Mallard?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Would you mind stepping out, but waiting for a few minutes?"

"Certainly."

"Thank you."

Ducky walked out of the office, leaving Gibbs and Vance as the room's only occupants.

"Nothing else to say, Agent Gibbs?"

"You know what happened. You have the whole story. What more is there to say?"

"Perhaps some _regret_ for flying off the handle, for giving absolutely _no_ respect to an agent who has worked with you for nearly eight years. Does any of that ring a bell? Or are respect and regret things bestowed only on worthier mortals than McGee?"

"Would it help?" Gibbs asked.

Vance wasn't sure whether or not it was a genuine question. It might have been.

"It might help _you_ a bit, Agent Gibbs. Let me ask you something. If you were to learn of Agent McGee assaulting Agent DiNozzo, no matter the justification for it...if he subsequently sent Agent DiNozzo to the hospital, how would _you_ deal with it...or do I not want to know?"

"It wouldn't happen."

"What? You mean that your agents wouldn't engage in the kind of behavior you have demonstrated today?"

"No, they wouldn't."

"Do you have _any_ regret for what you did to McGee, Agent Gibbs? Or is it, since Abby was _not_ being abused as you believed, that the situation means nothing? What am I going to say to Agent McGee when he comes back here? If your faith in him is so fragile as to break down completely with one accusation, why should he remain on your team? Why should it even _be_ your team?"

"Are you firing me?"

Vance slammed his hand on the desk. "No, Agent Gibbs! I'm looking for some sign of humanity in you! You sent your agent to the hospital, not through any fault of his own, but because _you_ didn't care enough about _him_ to give him the benefit of the doubt. Most people would feel something about that. They would feel guilty or regretful. They wouldn't sit there and stare at me like I'm speaking another language."

Gibbs stood up.

"Is that all?"

"No, that's not all! As of right now, you are suspended without pay, Agent Gibbs. I am going to speak to Agent McGee and to Mrs. McGee and I am going to ask them if they would like to add anything to what has been said. At that time, I will inform you how long your suspension will last. For now, consider the suspension indefinite. You may go, Agent Gibbs. Send Dr. Mallard back in as you leave."

Gibbs nodded curtly and walked out. He was shortly replaced by Ducky.

"Have a seat, Ducky," Vance said with a sigh.

"Thank you."

"What happened, Ducky? I'm not talking about the incident that brought you all here. I'm talking about the facts surrounding this incident."

"I'm afraid _that_ particular story is not mine to tell. Although the MCRT now knows of it, Timothy confided in me and I promised him I wouldn't reveal it without his permission. Suffice it to say that he and Abigail have been facing some challenges lately and, in spite of their best efforts to keep it separate from work, the concern of the MCRT was such that they were not allowed to keep their private life private."

"What will happen now?"

"That I wouldn't even venture to guess. I do know that this has made a situation which was already extremely difficult even moreso and I wish that there was some way I could have intervened. Regretfully, I had no idea this suspicion of abuse was fomenting in the minds of Timothy's colleagues and friends. Nor did Timothy and Abigail."

"Who would?"

"No one, I'd wager."

"No...that only makes it worse."

"Indeed."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was sitting up on the hospital bed, his head being sewn closed. He winced at the tugging feeling, although he couldn't feel much pain from the site itself. The doctor had asked what happened and he had given an abbreviated version of the events in Abby's lab. He had an ice pack on his cheek where Gibbs had hit him. His jaw ached. Every time he thought about it, he felt worse. He wasn't sure how much lower he could feel, but there seemed to be no limit how horrible it was to know what others had thought of him.

"Almost done here, Mr. McGee."

"Thanks."

"We've scheduled a CT scan and you'll need to stay here overnight, just for observation."

"Why?" Tim asked, almost turning before he remembered that he needed to stay still.

"Because you lost consciousness twice. Any loss of consciousness due to a concussion is a cause for concern. You could have bleeding in your brain and that could be fatal if unchecked. It's much safer in your case to spend one night here...and some time getting a scan."

Tim smiled weakly at Abby who had not let go of his hand since the suturing had begun. She wasn't saying anything, but she never took her eyes off him, as if she could get rid of everything that had happened just by maintaining eye contact. He wished that she was right. He wished that he didn't know what people had thought.

"Okay...you're obviously in charge here," Tim said.

"Exactly. Just a couple more. That's a nasty gash you've got."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm sure you do."

Tim was quiet as the resident finished suturing his head.

"Okay, all done. I'll go and see when you'll be taken back for the CT scan. Someone will be in to get you settled in a room in a few minutes."

"Thanks," Tim said again.

The resident left him and Abby alone. They looked at each other for a few seconds. Then, Abby stood, let go of his hand and walked around to examine his head.

"Are you okay, Tim?"

"In what respect?" he asked.

"Any," she said, gently.

"No. My face hurts. My whole body aches...and..." Tim dropped his head.

Abby's arms came around him.

"I'm so sorry, Tim. I really am. I shouldn't have let you be so good to me. I should have told them. I shouldn't have..."

"Abby, no. Don't start that. There's no way we could have known what..." Tim paused again. "...what they were willing to believe about me. I thought they'd think a bit better of me than to accuse me of beating you."

Abby slid around in front of him, almost in a begging position. "If I'd just told Gibbs...if I'd not climbed the shelves...if I hadn't been so horrible..."

"And if wishes were fishes, we'd each have a meal."

Abby scrunched up her face. "Huh?"

"Haven't you ever heard that one? My mom liked saying it to me."

"I had a teacher once who said that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride."

"Same principle. They're not horses or fishes...and we can't change what's happened. ...and I don't know if I can forget what they believed about me. I don't know if... I don't know how I can look them in the face again. Abby, I thought that I felt the worst I could feel when I found out what you'd done...but this is worse. This is so much worse."

Tears came to his eyes and he tried not to let them fall. Abby sat beside him on the bed.

"Tim, do you remember what you told me when you proposed?"

"Which part? As I recall, I said a lot of things."

Abby smiled. "You did, but one of the things you said was that we were going to be making a promise to each other not to hide our pain from each other. Don't hide it from me now. I know I'm the cause of a lot of it. I know that I've done a lot of really crappy, and petty and just all around bad things to you. I know that you've been really hurt by it. I know it. Don't hide it from me. You said that we would be each other's shoulder to cry on."

She scooted closer and bumped her shoulder against him a few times.

"Look. I've got a shoulder. It's all empty. Cry on my shoulder, Tim."

Tim looked at Abby and blinked furiously a few times. Maybe it was just that he still had a massive headache or that he wasn't thinking clearly, but he couldn't find it in himself to keep the tears back anymore. He leaned on Abby's shoulder and started to cry.

"How could they, Abbs? How could they?"

"I don't know, Tim."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Abby stayed with Tim all that night, not sleeping much. She waited while he had his CT scan. She couldn't remove the sight of Tim bleeding on the floor from her mind. It was as if she herself had hit him. It was as if the pain she had caused by her infidelity had been reinflicted, translated from heartache to headache but without removing the emotional pain. It was bad enough that Tim had to deal with what she had done but this...

Abby looked at Tim as he slept fitfully on the hospital bed. They had come in a couple of times during the night and awakened Tim to test his responses. He had been sluggish and complained of a headache and some dizziness. Then, when they left, he had slept again. Abby had dozed, but every time Tim had stirred, she had started out of her sleep and stared at him, anxious to see how he was doing.

Now, it was morning and she wanted both to stay here and be with Tim _and_ to go to NCIS to make sure Vance knew why she wasn't there, why Tim wasn't there, what had been done to him and by whom.

"I love you, Tim," Abby whispered to her slumbering husband, not wanting to wake him and bring him back to the nightmare his life had become. "I'm so sorry."

"You might try that when he is conscious, Abigail," Ducky said softly from behind her.

Abby turned around and instantly felt the tears in her eyes.

"I don't know if he'd believe me anymore, Ducky," she said. "And I wouldn't blame him. I've screwed up really bad this time."

"I'm aware of that. You are not the only one, however. Others are culpable."

"But if it weren't for me, none of this would have happened at all."

"True enough, but perhaps, rather than dwelling on your error, you could focus, instead, on the one who is most hurt by what you have done and what has happened as a result."

"But, Ducky, I–"

Ducky continued, stopping her gently but firmly. "Admission of guilt is well and good and a requirement, certainly, but confession is not enough. Anyone can make an admission, can even do so with no intention of changing. Look at many of the politicians and celebrities in this country. Admission of guilt has come to mean very little. True penitence requires changing one's behavior...and that which motivated one's behavior."

"But I don't know _why_ I did it, Ducky!" Abby almost wailed, before remembering to keep her voice down.

Ducky smiled knowingly. "Then, perhaps you should make a genuine effort to discover your own motivations. Unless you can truly tell me that you were not in control of your faculties at the time, you need to determine just what guided your actions. And you must be ready to confront a side of yourself you may wish to deny."

"Why do you say that, Ducky?"

"Because, my dear, whatever impulse or desire guided you, it cannot have been a positive one."

Abby swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

"Now, would you like a ride to NCIS?"

"Oh, no...I can't leave Tim alone...not while he's asleep. He won't want to wake up alone. I've done so much wrong, Ducky! I can't mess up here!"

"I will wait if you would like me to," Ducky said calmly.

Abby nodded, biting her lip and looking at Tim who still slept.

"I want to make everything better, Ducky...but I can't."

Now, Ducky opened his arms, inviting a hug. Abby sniffled and hugged him tightly.

"No, you can't, my dear...but the good thing is that you've realized it. Now, you can go about fixing what is possible and leaving the rest to time to heal. Some things need time more than anything else."

"How did you get so smart, Ducky?" Abby asked, her voice muffled in his shoulder.

"I've lived a long time...and seen the best _and_ worst humanity has to offer. It tends to help one gain perspective."

Abby smiled, laughed a little and settled beside Ducky to await Tim's awakening.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs sat, staring at his boat. He had started a new one only a few weeks ago. ...but right now, he had no interest in working on it. He wasn't used to being home at this time of day...and for the reason he was. He'd never been suspended. Over the years, Gibbs knew he'd edged over the line of legality a time or two, but always in the service of the greater good and while his superiors had occasionally grumbled, they'd never disciplined him for it.

Now, however...

...but it wasn't Vance's face that kept appearing in his mind. It wasn't Tony's worried expression, confessing his fears. It wasn't Ducky's anger and censure. ...and to his surprise, it wasn't even Abby's angry and grief-stricken expression as she had realized why Gibbs had hit Tim. No, it wasn't any of those faces.

It was Tim's face. Not _after _Gibbs had hit him. No, it was before that. That split second as Tim had come into the lab, expression open, even a bit amused, perhaps. Suspecting nothing. Thinking only that his boss needed him for something. That was all he had expected. That was all. ...and what he'd gotten was a lot more than a punch to the face.

Gibbs took a breath. Contrary to what Vance and Ducky might be thinking, he did feel quite a bit of guilt for what had happened. He wasn't used to being so...so _wrong_. What had Ducky called it? Favoritism. Gibbs knew he had a weakness when it came to Abby. He cared deeply for her. As different as they were from each other, they had been close friends since she had begun working at NCIS. He had always made a point of watching out for her. He tolerated things from her that he'd never tolerate from anyone else. ...and if something went wrong...Abby wasn't to blame. Had he _ever_ blamed her for _anything_? Thinking back, he couldn't remember a single time.

Gibbs and Abby never made mistakes. It was always someone else's fault.

...and yet, Gibbs logically knew that wasn't true because no one was perfect, not him and not even Abby. ...but that didn't seem to matter.

Still, Tim's face wouldn't leave his mind. A man who was dealing with something Gibbs himself had dealt with in the past. An agent who had done everything asked of him during his tenure. A person who had never given anyone the slightest cause to think he'd do something so heinous as abuse his wife. He had come into the lab, almost smiling, and in a moment, Gibbs had made his life go from bad to much, much worse.

_What am I going to do with myself?_ Gibbs wondered. Forced inactivity was something he'd never suffered well...and he had no choice in that now. Vance was unlikely to be moved by a complaint of boredom. ...and Gibbs wasn't going to bare his soul to just anyone. It was private. Emotions weren't meant to be on display. You dealt with them on your own time.

Just as Tim had been _trying_ to do but wasn't allowed to do.

With a deep breath and a sigh, Gibbs rubbed a hand through his hair and wondered if there was any way of fixing this mistake.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up feeling miserable, achy, unhappy and nearly every other unpleasant adjective. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed and tried to find a position that would allow him to escape his misery.

He failed.

Then, there was a gentle hand, caressing his bruised jaw.

"Tim?"

Abby. Tim felt the now-usual anguish that accompanied the thought of his wife. ...but she was here. She hadn't left him. Not at all that he could remember. He had some vague flashes of her yelling at Gibbs...but he couldn't be sure he hadn't been imagining that.

"Tim, are you awake?"

Tim opened his eyes. Abby was right there. He dredged up a smile from somewhere inside him.

"I'm awake."

"Feeling any better?"

"Can I sleep on my own bed tonight? Hospital beds suck."

Abby smiled but he could see that she was worried about him. He started to sit up but Ducky appeared from somewhere and gently urged him to lay back.

"You should remain still until the doctor comes to clear you."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want to risk causing more damage."

Tim's smile faded almost to nothing. "How much more damage could there be, Ducky? I mean, really...for the things that matter, what more could go wrong?"

Ducky's responding smile was sympathetic. "A lot, believe it or not. Just rest. You will likely be released today; so don't rush it."

"Okay."

Abby hugged Tim quickly. "I'm going to stay until we find out what's going to happen and then I'm going to go to work and see how much time we can get off."

"We? Abby, you don't need to take time off for this," Tim said.

"You had mentioned that maybe we should take some time to ourselves before, Tim," Abby said, her face scrunching up.

Tim remembered that now. "Oh...right."

"Don't worry, lad. This happens often with concussions, and yours was fairly severe."

Gibbs. Tim felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

"Yeah...Gibbs hits pretty hard, doesn't he..." Tim winced as a stabbing pain coursed through his head.

"Tim?"

"Just a headache, Abby. When will the doctor get here?"

"As soon as we call him," Abby said and pushed the call button. "They woke you up so much during the night that I didn't want to wake you before I had to."

Tim didn't remember that. "Someone woke me up?"

"A few times."

"Why?"

"To ask you questions, make sure you could answer them."

"What kinds of questions?" Tim asked.

"Your name, the year, things like that."

"Did I pass?"

Abby smiled and nodded. "With flying colors. Of course."

"Shouldn't I remember that?"

"Memory loss is not uncommon when one is suffering from a concussion, Timothy," Ducky said.

"Definitely," said the doctor as she entered the room. "Good morning, Mr. McGee. How are you feeling?"

"Terrible."

"Care to unpack that a bit?"

"In what way?" Tim asked, a little irritated by the chipper attitude of his doctor.

"You still have a headache?"

"Yes."

The doctor leaned over and took out a penlight. Tim saw the flashes of light in his eyes.

"Dizziness?"

"Some."

"Any nausea?"

"A little. I'm not going to throw up or anything."

"Good."

"I don't remember people waking me up last night. Should I be worried?"

"Not overly. Any parts of your past that are blank?"

Tim thought back. His past, particularly his recent past was horribly clear to him.

"No. Not that I've noticed."

"Then, I wouldn't worry about it too much. We got back the results of your CT scan and they show no signs of bleeding. That's a good thing, but that doesn't mean you're out of the woods yet. I'm still concerned about your two moments of lost consciousness. So, we're going to release you today, but you are not to spend time on your own. Not at all."

Tim sat up and then put his hand to his head as it started to spin and ache at the same time. Abby was right beside him.

"...but..." That was all he managed to get out.

"Mr. McGee, sometimes, the worst symptoms take time to develop, and we have no way of predicting whether they will or not. That makes it impractical to keep you here, but it would be irresponsible to simply let you leave. You must have someone with you, and for the next 48 hours, I want your wife to wake you during the night every three hours or so and make sure that you have no dangerous symptoms developing. If you experience any muscle weakness, seizures, convulsions, a headache that doesn't go away or worsens dramatically, you need to come back in and let us re-evaluate your status. The last thing you want is to have permanent brain damage because you refused to get care for yourself. So let us do our job and you do what you're told. Understand?"

Tim nodded and then wished he didn't as his head began spinning again. He needed Abby's support more than he wanted to admit.

"All right. We need to get a last checkup on you and then you'll be discharged...into someone's care."

Tim smiled. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good. It will probably take some time before we can get everything done, but you'll be released by noon."

Abby nodded. "Tim, I should go to NCIS and talk to Director Vance, let him know."

The doctor smiled. "I'll let you all figure out your schedules. We'll get someone in here as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Abby said.

After the doctor was gone, Ducky smiled at Tim. "Director Vance has already said that you both are welcome to take whatever leave time you need to effect Timothy's recovery."

Tim's eyes opened wide. "Does he–?"

"He does not know the reason for all that has gone on. He knows only that Tony and Jethro had invalid suspicions. I told him that it was not my story to tell."

Tim dropped his gaze, feeling humiliated at the reminder of what had happened...and why.

"Thanks, Ducky," he whispered, feeling tears in his eyes. He wiped them away angrily. "I shouldn't be crying about this. It's so...so stupid."

"No, lad. This is an awful thing you're going through. You have every right to be upset."

"How many other people were thinking the same thing? How many others think that I beat my wife?" Tim asked, trying to hold back the tears. "How many people I thought were my friends think that I am capable of abuse? How many?"

"No one, Tim," Abby said. "No one would think that. Not really!"

Tim shook his head and then winced at another stabbing pain. "Then, how could Tony..._and_ Gibbs...and even Ziva...how could _they_ think that I could do that to you? How?"

"I don't know," Abby said miserably. "I really don't know. They should know you better than that."

"I can't answer that either, Timothy, not with any certainty. You will have to ask them."

"No," Tim said, feeling bitterness take over. "No. I don't want to hear whatever stupid excuses they have for thinking that about me. You can tell them that when you get there."

"Actually, Jethro won't be there. He has been suspended indefinitely for his assault on you."

"What?" Tim asked in shock. "Suspended?"

"Yes. Indefinitely. I believe that the Director wishes to speak to the two of you before determining how long the suspension will last and what other consequences he will face."

"He's not going to be fired?" Tim asked.

"Not that I'm aware, but I am not privy to the thoughts of Director Vance...except for those he wishes to share with me."

"Do you _want_ him fired, Tim?" Abby asked.

"I...I don't know what I want, Abby. I don't know!" Tim heard his own voice rise suddenly and then he felt another wash of pain and he closed his eyes tightly. "Everything is so... It's all so crazy...insane. I don't know what to say, what to do. I don't know what I should feel about it." He pressed his palms to his temples. "It's...it's just wrong. That's all. It's wrong. This wasn't my fault!"

Abby hugged Tim tightly. "No, it wasn't your fault! It was wrong and I was wrong and Gibbs and Tony were wrong. They were all wrong! It's not your fault!"

"Then, why did this happen?" Tim asked. "Why?"

Ducky sighed. "I don't know, Timothy. I wish I could tell you."

Tim let Abby hug him for a few minutes and then he pulled back.

"I'm okay. Go and do what you need to do. I won't leave the hospital without you." He tried a smile. "Promise."

Abby smiled, too...but she looked ready to cry.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Go. Just come back because I'm going to need a ride home."

"I'll come back, Tim. I promise."

"Then, I'll wait."

Abby nodded vigorously and then left with Ducky. After they were gone, Tim leaned back on the bed and felt the tears. He didn't bother to wipe them away. What would be the point? He was alone right now...and all he could remember was how quickly everything he had thought he knew about himself, about his position at NCIS, about the people he worked with...everything had been thrown into a spin cycle, leaving him confused, hurt and angry.

"If it's not my fault, then why am I the one suffering for it?" he asked the empty room.

There was no response.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Abby got off the elevator at the balcony level. It felt weird to be up there. She was usually down below, not way up above. She looked down on the bullpen from her vantage point. Tony and Ziva were at their desks...sitting in silence. Tony looked up and saw her staring down at him. He made a brief motion to stand but Abby squared her shoulders and turned away. She didn't want to let Tony off the hook for what he had thought. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say. She strode to Vance's office and met Pamela's sympathetic gaze.

"That looks like it hurt, Abby," she said kindly.

"Yeah, that's what I get for pretending to be an employee of Home Depot."

Pamela smiled. "Director Vance had a sudden meeting in MTAC, but he didn't think it would take long. Why don't you have a seat in his office and he'll be in there as soon as he can."

"Thanks, Pamela." Abby felt strangely reticent to go into the office. She was never reticent to go _anywhere_. In fact, the more uncomfortable she should feel, the less uncomfortable she felt. ...but going into Vance's office...in this situation. She didn't want to. She wanted to run and hide and go back to how things used to be...the well-oiled machine where everyone reacted as expected and did what was expected. How had it all changed? How?

She sat down nervously on a chair and looked around. She hadn't ever been in this room very much. Not under any of the three directors. And she had never wanted to be in this room less.

The door opened.

"Ah, Mrs. McGee. Ms. Cook told me you were in here. I'm glad. How is Agent McGee doing?"

Vance sat down across from her and looked at her with what could only be sympathy, but Abby was suddenly worried. Did he know?

"He's...better than he was yesterday, Director. ...but he won't be able to come to work for a while. When I left him, he still had a headache and nausea and the doctors are worried about lasting side effects and stuff like that. I don't know when he'll be okay to work again."

"Make sure you submit a form for his hospital bill. This will be covered by NCIS. Only right in the circumstances. I'm sorry that this had to happen."

"It _didn't_ have to happen, Director...sir," Abby said bitterly. "Nothing about this _had_ to happen. They just didn't bother _thinking_! ...and neither did I."

"Dr. Mallard didn't indicate that any of this was your fault, Mrs. McGee."

Abby sniffled. From somewhere, Vance produced a Kleenex box. Abby tried to smile and took a wad of Kleenex.

"That's because Ducky's a good person. Like Tim. And they don't want to blame me for any of this when it's ultimately my fault!"

"In what way?" Vance asked.

Abby bit her lip, trying to decide how to say it. She was surprised by Vance's sudden rescue.

"Is this the story that Dr. Mallard said was personal and he couldn't tell me?"

"Yes."

"Is it NCIS-related?"

"No...well, except that both Tim and I work here."

Vance smiled. "Does it involve anything that NCIS investigates, prosecutes or in any other manner should be involved in?"

"No."

"Then, unless you feel a deep abiding need to let me know, don't tell me, Mrs. McGee. I'm not here to deal with domestic problems unless they fall in my purview. It doesn't sound like whatever problems you and Agent McGee are having are any of my business."

Abby nodded quickly, feeling both better and worse about the reprieve. ...and again, Vance surprised her.

"However, if ever you and Agent McGee would like to speak with Jackie and myself about problems you're having, you're always welcome...provided those are personal problems not NCIS problems. We're not perfect at the whole marriage business but we have a few years of experience."

Abby smiled.

"Thank you, Director."

"Now, there are a couple of items we need to deal with this morning," he said, all business. "First of all, how long do you and Agent McGee need time off?"

"At least a week with both of us. I don't want to leave him alone until I'm sure he's going to be okay...but with how bad the concussion was, I don't know how long it will take him to be ready to come back...if he _wants_ to come back. They really hurt him, Director...not just by punching him in the face. He just doesn't know why anyone would think he could hurt me."

"While I agree that Agent McGee seems to be the last person in the world who would want to hurt you, if this _had_ been a case of domestic violence, just think how important it would have been for Agent DiNozzo to report his worries to someone. Too many people do look the other way." He smiled as Abby sucked in a breath to defend Tim. "_However_, I cannot agree with how the problem was pursued, nor how members of the MCRT responded to it. It was shoddy and cruel. Now, you said a week for the both of you?"

"At least."

"All right. I'll clear it with HR...or Ms. Cook will. The least I can do considering the circumstances. If you decide you both need more time off, be sure to let us know. ...and when Agent McGee is feeling up to it, I'd like to speak to him as well."

"Of course."

"Good. Now, the other matter I have to pursue is that of Agent Gibbs' disciplinary action."

"Yes?" Now, Abby definitely felt apprehensive. She was angry at Gibbs, yes, but she was also hurt and she knew that in a few days, she probably wouldn't be so angry...because she rarely could stay angry at someone for very long, particularly not Gibbs.

"He has been suspended as you more than likely know."

"Yes."

"I have not yet set a time limit on it. I would like to know how you perceived his actions in your lab."

"Well...I didn't actually see him hit Tim. I was in my office. I came out when I..." Abby winced at the memory. "...when I heard the fridge door break."

"What happened?"

"I came out and I saw Tim on the floor. He was out cold."

"No one was trying to help him?"

"No. Tony was standing there, but he looked like he was in shock. Ziva came in a bit later. I don't know when. She seemed in shock, too. Gibbs was looking at me, not at Tim at all."

"What did he do?"

"He kept asking me how I got my black eye. He kept telling me to tell the truth. I didn't know what he was talking about and I kept trying to get to Tim to make sure he was okay...because he wasn't moving or anything and I was scared."

"And he wouldn't let you help him?"

"No. I didn't get it until he said that he thought Tim had hit me."

"He never asked if Agent McGee was all right?"

"No."

"Showed any concern?"

"No. He didn't really say much after I told them how stupid they were."

Vance seemed to suppress a smile. "I'm sure he didn't. He never does say much."

"He was more emphatic about not saying anything."

"Do you think he regretted it? That it was an action taken without thinking?"

"No. I think he did exactly what he meant to do. It was just wrong!"

"I agree. He does not deny what he's done, and technically, Agent McGee could bring criminal charges against him for assault. If he chooses to do so, that is his perogative. I am simply trying to ascertain fit action to take against one of my employees."

"Do I really have to say what he deserves?" Abby asked.

"No. As I said, _I_ am determining the fit disciplinary action. Now, if you were adamant that he should be dismissed, then we would have another problem. Agent Gibbs has a number of years of experience here _and_ he is very good at his job, no matter how unorthodox on occasion. However, no matter his record, the assault of a subordinate is very serious and _must_ be addressed, particularly in this case."

"Why in this case?" Abby asked.

"Because, not only was the attack unwarranted, but it was also not done in the heat of the moment. More allowances can be made for someone who reacts instantly without thinking. Agent Gibbs did not do that. Certainly, he acted without consideration that he might be wrong, but he planned out his attack. That makes it much worse."

Abby nodded feeling ever worse about the situation. "Director?"

"Yes, Mrs. McGee?"

"Um...what's going to happen now?"

Vance smiled. "That is yet to be determined. Agent Gibbs will be suspended without pay for a yet-to-be-specified number of weeks. Agent McGee is injured and not fit for duty. That leaves the MCRT with two holes to fill. That is not really your concern, Mrs. McGee, but you did ask."

"Yeah, I did. What Tim and I are dealing with...I thought it was the worst things could possibly get...but...but this is worse, Director. It's a _lot_ worse! I hate it. I hate that this happened. I hate what I did and I hate, hate, _hate_ what Gibbs and Tony did! It's not fair! Tim didn't do anything wrong...unless you count being way too nice to me. He really was trying to protect me, Director Vance! He would never hurt me!"

"I don't think he did, Mrs. McGee. That shiner is unfortunate and looks painful, but I believe you and Dr. Mallard in your affirmations...since I have no reason to believe otherwise."

Abby let the silence descend. It was uncommon for her and she was surprised at herself. Since all this had happened...she wasn't acting like her usual self...but that self seemed so inappropriate, so false that she couldn't do it. She couldn't let that out. Everything about her seemed wrong and off-kilter. What to do. What to do. She just didn't know.

"Mrs. McGee?"

"Yes, Director?" Abby asked, clenching her Kleenex into a tight wad.

"If that is everything, you may go back to your husband."

"Yes, Director. I think that's everything." Abby stood up to leave and then stopped. "Oh! My substitute! Marc Bledsow is someone we've used before. He can step in for a while, but he's a lot more stubborn than I am and he has a tendency to order people around." Abby paused and thought about what she'd said. "...and I guess that won't really be a lot different, will it."

"Everyone is different, Mrs. McGee. Please do keep me apprised."

"I will, Director. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry that this happened."

"I think that's probably the one thing everyone can agree on."

Abby took a deep breath and turned around. She walked out of the office as quickly as she could, to the elevator. She didn't even look down where Tony and Ziva were sitting.

She just wanted to get back to Tim...to try and make everything normal again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony watched Abby leave and felt bad. He'd been feeling progressively worse with every moment that had passed since he had told Gibbs what he thought...and then seen the consequences of it. If only he had listened to Ziva and not told Gibbs but rather talked to Abby himself. If only he hadn't suspected Tim of something he would _never_ do. If only he had not thought he could fix things.

...and he'd been wrong the whole time.

"Abby cheated on McGee," he said softly, barely aware he was speaking aloud.

"Hush, Tony! Do you wish to spread that around the entire building?" Ziva hissed.

Tony jumped and looked around. No one was nearby.

"Don't you see how wrong I was, Ziva? How wrong we all were? Would you ever have thought of that?"

Ziva sighed in exasperation and stood up. She stalked over to his desk, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the elevator. Still holding tightly to his arm, she pounded the elevator button and when it opened, dragged him inside it.

Tony was aware of what was coming in a vague sense, but he was totally taken aback by her sudden unleashing of fury.

"Do you not have a single brain cell in your swelled head, Tony?" Ziva fumed.

"What are you talking about?"

"Will you stop thinking about yourself and how _you_ have been mistaken? Can you not see how much this has hurt McGee and Abby? Can you not see what has happened to us? To every single one of us? Pull your head out of your butt and look around! Half of the MCRT is gone! One because of assault and the other because he was foolish enough to trust his friends! To trust _us_! Abby is angry enough at Gibbs to hate him and she is angry at you. We all thought that it was McGee in the wrong when, in reality, it was not only Abby but every one of us who was in the wrong! McGee was guilty of trying to keep a secret! Abby was guilty of sleeping with another man, and we were guilty of not bothering to think but to try and get involved anyway! I do not know how it is possible that McGee will want to come back here! ...and I fear that Gibbs never will be allowed to. There is a lot going on. Stop thinking about the fact that you were wrong! That is the least of our problems! You are wrong a lot!"

Tony nearly staggered beneath the onslaught of Ziva's anger. He thought that it might have been her longest speech ever. Then, just when he began to worry about a repeat of her actions in Israel, she suddenly sighed.

"What was said in the lab should be kept private...as McGee wished it to be. We have all made mistakes, but that is not what troubles me the most. What troubles me the most is how hurt McGee was when we went to the hospital. He asked what he did to deserve this. ...and Abby was right. He did nothing to deserve it. This was something that happened to the innocent party in an awful time. We gave him no trust, no respect."

"_I_ didn't give him any respect. I was worried a lot more about Abby and Gibbs than I was about him," Tony admitted. "I never even stopped to _think_ that it might have been McGee who needed the help...real help, not _my_ help." He smiled weakly. "All this time...and Abby had slept with someone else. That's not supposed to happen."

"Well, no, Tony. It is called infidelity for a reason. It is called _cheating_ for a reason. It is never supposed to happen."

"No, I mean...this is McGee and Abby! Abby was so excited to be getting married that she called every one of us up at two in the morning just to tell us that McGee had proposed. She even took his last name! ...and I never thought she'd do that. Their wedding was weird and perfect for them. Other people have problems with cheating...not them."

"Apparently, no one is immune, Tony," Ziva said.

"What do we do now?" Tony asked.

"I do not know. I only hope that McGee will forgive me for even entertaining a doubt about him...and I hope that no lasting damage will come from this."

"What are the odds of that?" Tony asked, mustering up a fake grin.

Ziva did not smile. "The odds are not good."

She flipped on the elevator and, when the doors opened, stepped off, heading for her desk.

Tony followed her and sat down at his own desk. The bullpen was never quite silent...but it seemed like an yawning cavern right now because of the empty desks. Two empty desks.

Tony couldn't help feeling responsible for both vacancies.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The next few days were weird...for everyone. Tony and Ziva were assigned cold cases to fill their time...and old files needing completion while Lovitz' team took on the MCRT role. Every day felt like a step into the Twilight Zone. Nothing was right. Tim and Gibbs were still gone. Abby was gone. Her replacement was competent...but not Abby.

Ducky could feel the tension every time he ventured upstairs, every time he spoke with Tony or Ziva. Even Jimmy could tell that there was a problem. Ducky had told him about the situation (although, again, he had not spoken of Abby's infidelity. He intended to keep Tim's confidence until released from his silence.) It was just a strange week all around.

Gibbs was stuck at home. He tried working on his boat but got nowhere...because he couldn't erase his stupidity from his mind. He still hadn't heard from Vance about how long his suspension would be, and he wasn't about to go back, hat in hand, and ask for more information. He also wasn't going to quit. He wouldn't be manipulated into something like that. If the powers that be wanted him out, they would have to fire him. ...but those thoughts didn't help him feel any better.

Tim and Abby spent most of their time together at home, but Tim was still lethargic and dizzy from his concussion, to a great enough degree that his doctor had scheduled an appointment for him to come in for another CT scan. No sense in risking things getting worse. His continued difficulties prevented the kinds of in-depth discussions he and Abby knew they needed to have. He had a hard time concentrating, and he tired so easily. He did try to help out around the house, but it wasn't very successful. He also had a hard time concentrating on his books and so he didn't have much to do besides sleep...and listen to music or watch television. He didn't really watch a lot of TV as a general rule, but he got very good at skipping through the channels.

By Thursday, Tim was beginning to get back some of his energy. He could at least get out of bed before ten a.m. His headache wouldn't go away and he still had bouts of dizziness. In short, he wasn't good for much, but Abby was deeply relieved that he wasn't just lying around in bed all day. Maybe things were finally looking up.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony pulled up to the curb in front of the McGee residence. Every time he had come here (and that wasn't especially often), he had always been boggled by the fact that Tim and Abby were married and living in that house. He had been genuinely happy for them, but it still blew his mind.

Now, however, he was not excited about getting out of the car and walking up to the front door. He was coming, metaphorical hat in hand, to apologize and beg for forgiveness. He had held out for five days before giving in to what he knew he needed to do. Ziva had not gone, stating that she would give them space. No one had seen Gibbs for days. His door was actually locked the one time Tony has bestirred himself to try and speak to his boss.

He would have preferred Gibbs to Tim. How did one apologize for thinking the worst of a friend? What was he supposed to say? "Hey, McGee, sorry for thinking you were a disgusting lowlife. Live and learn, huh?"

That sounded stupid, even to Tony. He got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk. He paused at the door and then knocked, using a doorknocker shaped like a disembodied hand holding a rock or something. Abby had chosen it, of course. He always felt weird using it.

But when the door opened, revealing a glowering Abby McGee, he only wanted to run. However, he swallowed his pride and tried a smile.

"Hi, Abby."

"What do you want, Tony?" Abby asked. She was not dressed in her usual Goth garb. Her hair was down and the makeup was missing. She had obviously not bothered to make herself look good. ...and she was glaring at him, an expression only made worse by her general appearance.

Ouch. Still angry.

"I was hoping to talk to McGee."

"Why? More unfounded accusations?" Abby asked. "More questioning of my husband's motives? More meanness, idiocy or stupidity?"

Double ouch. Really angry.

"No," Tony said and swallowed his pride even further. "I...I wanted to apologize for...for what I thought, for what I did."

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"Because I was wrong."

"Good job. You got that right."

"Abby, please, can I just talk to him?"

"Why should I let you? Why should I trust you? Why should _he_ want to talk to _you_? You don't deserve it!"

"I deserve to let him be mad at me, Abbs," Tony said.

"Well...Well... Tim's sleeping right now," Abby said loudly.

"Abby?"

Tony heard the voice and looked beyond Abby's towering form in the doorway. Tim was standing at the top of the stairs, holding tightly to the railing. Tony was actually a bit dismayed at how rickety Tim looked. His face was slightly pinched and he was wearing only a t-shirt and sweat pants. He wasn't even wearing any socks...which Tony found strange for some reason. All his words abandoned him and he just stared awkwardly at a man who was obviously only in the early stages of recovery.

_And that's because I opened my big mouth..._

"Tim, you were asleep!" Abby said, turning around quickly.

"Yeah...I was. I heard you shouting." Tim took a step down and saw Tony. He sighed. "Hi, Tony."

"Hey, McGee."

"Tony was just leaving," Abby said, turning back to Tony and glaring. "Weren't you."

"Abby," Tim said.

"No, he was just leaving!"

Tony opened his mouth to agree, having lost his courage.

"Abby," Tim said again. "Might as well let him in. You know he won't go away until he gets what he wants." It wasn't said meanly. Tim even had a bit of a smile on his face. Only a bit though. He winced a little at an apparent headache and brought a hand to his head.

"Are you sure, Tim? You don't have to talk to him," Abby said, staring at Tony. "You have enough to worry about right now."

"I know," Tim said, wearily. "I'll just get it over with now." He walked a few more steps down and then paused. He blinked a few times and stared out beyond Tony to the front lawn.

"McGee, are you okay?" Tony asked, suddenly concerned.

"Can you–?" Tim began and then stopped.

What happened next was so fast that Tony felt as though he was watching a movie at double speed. Tim tensed for about two seconds and then began to shake. Following that initial shaking, he collapsed, falling forward. Abby shrieked and started to move forward, but Tony was faster. He dashed forward and, as Tim fell, he caught him and tried to ease him down. It was hard because Tim had been six steps from the bottom and that was a long way to fall. What made it even harder was the fact that Tim was jerking uncontrollably. Tony couldn't seem to get a good grip and they both fell to the floor. Hard. Tim's arm hit the railing. Tony knew his back would be bruised by the bottom step. Abby shrieked again as Tony tried to get Tim to a clear surface while avoiding his flailing limbs.

"Abby, call 911! Now!" Tony ordered.

Tim's seizure ended as suddenly as it had begun. Tony approached cautiously, ready for another to start at any time. Watching the seizure brought back bad memories of seeing a kid in high school suddenly fling himself out of his desk onto the floor. The teacher had made everyone move the desks back away, leaving a free space for the kid to flail and shake and generally freak everyone out. He'd had epilepsy, but one didn't forget those kinds of events.

"McGee?" he said softly. "McGee, can you hear me?"

No response, but no convulsions either. Tony noticed blood collecting on the corner of Tim's mouth. He looked around, saw a box of Kleenex and grabbed a handful of them while Abby was on the phone, frantically asking for an ambulance. He pulled Tim onto his side and then dabbed at the blood.

Tim's eyes opened and he stared up at Tony.

"Hey, McGee."

"What's going on?"

"You had a seizure."

Tim took a few shallow breaths. "I did?"

"You don't remember?"

"I...no. I...was coming down the stairs."

"You fell the rest of the way."

"Is that why my arm hurts?"

"Probably."

"Oh."

Abby joined the two men on the floor. "The ambulance is coming. Tim, are you okay?"

"Ambulance?" Tim repeated.

"You're going to the hospital, Tim."

"Okay." Tim started to sit up.

"Whoa, there, Probie. Just stay down."

"Going to the hospital?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, but in an ambulance. Just wait for it."

"Okay."

"How you feeling?"

"Head hurts. Arm hurts."

Abby looked at Tony with frightened eyes. "What do we do now?"

"We wait for the ambulance, Abby. Nothing else we _can_ do."

Tim looked at both of them, but he seemed still a bit out of it and made no effort to speak. He just looked around from his position on the floor, as if he'd never seen it before.

The ambulance arrived a couple minutes later and Tim was whisked away. Tony convinced Abby to let him drive her to the hospital and they left.

Tony couldn't help thinking that this was not what he had planned when he came to talk to Tim.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby had seemed to forget her anger. When Tony had made as if to leave the waiting room, she had given him a frightened look and he had stayed. If she didn't hug him as she might have done in other circumstances, she didn't take any opportunity to further berate him. They sat together in the waiting room. Somehow, there was no question of calling anyone else. They wouldn't be doing that. No calling. Abby was there. Tony was there by default. Later, Abby would remember to call Ducky, but she didn't want anyone else there.

They sat in the waiting room for hours. A doctor had come out once to say that Tim was being taken to surgery. Brain surgery. That was all Tony heard. The doctor said other words. Long words. Complicated words. ...but all he heard was that Tim was having brain surgery.

...because he'd had a concussion. ...because Gibbs had hit him. ...because Tony had assumed that Tim would beat Abby.

Finally, a doctor came back out. Abby leapt to her feet and ran to him.

"Is Tim okay? Is he alright? What happened? Why?"

The doctor smiled. "Your husband is fine, Mrs. McGee."

Abby sighed in relief. "Oh, good. What happened?"

"Let's sit down over here." The doctor gestured to where Tony was sitting, thinking about standing.

Abby sat down across from the doctor, not looking at Tony. All her attention was on what the doctor had to say.

"All right. Your husband is going to be fine. He had what we call a subacute subdural hematoma. It's a very slow bleed that sometimes manifests itself between two days and two weeks after a minor injury. We would have caught it when he came in tomorrow, but it's better to catch it earlier. His seizure is not particularly common but _is_ one of the symptoms. The bleeding was building up his intracranial pressure which triggered the seizure."

"He's not going to keep having the seizures then?" Abby asked hopefully.

"Not so far as I can see. We've admitted him and he'd better stay here for a few days. We'll monitor his status and make sure another bleed doesn't start up. That can happen although it's not common."

"You just said that what happened already was uncommon," Tony pointed out.

"I did, and it's true. They're not necessarily correlative situations. Mr. McGee suffered from a serious concussion and that triggered a slow bleed which didn't show up on the CT scan we took before because it was so slow. Now that we've caught it, he's very likely to make a complete recovery, but it will take longer than a simple concussion would take."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course. He'll likely be pretty groggy, but you can see him."

Abby looked at Tony and he saw a hint of her former resentment. "Tony, will you wait out here, please?" She was civil, but Tony could tell that she was remembering her irritation...and the reason why Tim was in this situation in the first place.

"Sure, Abby."

Tony watched the doctor lead Abby out of the waiting room. He sat back...to wait some more. He thought about whether or not he should stay. He figured there was no harm in staying. He did need to talk to Tim still...and he wanted to know if he was okay. He prepared for a long wait.

...and was surprised when Abby came out about half an hour later.

"Tim wants to talk to you, Tony," she said.

"He does?"

"Yes." Abby was keeping her voice neutral. "I'll wait out here. Go and talk to him. He said that if he'd fallen asleep again, that you were supposed to wake him up."

"He's falling asleep that fast?" Tony joked weakly.

"He had a tonic-clonic seizure, a hematoma that could have killed him, brain surgery and was still recovering from a concussion," Abby said, not joking at all. "You try going through all that and being bright and cheery. ...oh, and add in the complete loss of trust from one's friends and coworkers. Tell me how you feel then."

"Sorry, Abby."

"Don't say sorry to me. _Tim_ wants to talk to you. I would rather have you leave...although I have to thank you for your help. It doesn't erase what you did before. Got it?"

"I know it doesn't, Abby," Tony said.

Abby looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. "He's in room 325."

"Okay."

Tony walked down the hall. The door to room 325 was closed. He stared it for a few seconds and then walked in. Tim's eyes were closed. He seemed to be asleep. There was a heart monitor. He had a net of wires coming off his head. There were IVs, of course. He didn't want to wake Tim up, but he remembered Abby's instructions.

"Hey, McGee," he said softly.

Tim's eyes opened. They were clear if very tired.

"Thanks, Tony," Tim said by way of greeting.

"For what?"

"Abby told me that you caught me when I fell. I don't remember any of it. I only have a vague memory of the time from standing at the top of the stairs to...well, to waking up here. I don't really remember any of it."

Tony shrugged.

"No, thank you. I could have been hurt a lot worse than I was if I had hit the ground. It must have hurt _you_ to catch me like that. It can't have been easy."

"You don't weigh that much."

Tim smiled way too knowingly. He closed his eyes and took a breath. The silence lengthened out for about thirty interminable seconds before he opened them again.

"Sorry, Tony. They've got me on some fun medication. Makes me tired."

"Not a problem. It's...well, it's kind of my fault you're here anyway. I can't really complain about it."

"You could. Hasn't stopped you before."

"Can I sit down?"

"Sure." Tim waved a hand vaguely toward a chair. "Best seat in the house."

Tony sat down.

"So...what is that you came over for?" Tim asked.

"Oh...right."

Another tired smile. Tim just looked very tired all around.

"We don't have to do this right now, McGee."

"Might as well do it now."

"You said that before."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, at your house."

"Oh. So?"

Tony shifted uncomfortably on the chair.

"Come on, Tony. If I can look you in the eye after what you believed about me, the least you can do is say what you have say."

"Good point, Probie."

"Well?"

"I was going to say I was sorry."

"For what?"

"For thinking you would hit Abby...and for telling Gibbs about it. I should have known what he'd do. Maybe I did."

"And thought that I deserved it?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Tim nodded very slowly, but his eyes closed again in response to the motion. ...or maybe not. He didn't reopen them even when he started talking again.

"You thought that I deserved to be taken down by a former Marine for hitting Abby."

"Yeah, I guess."

Another long silence. Tony was about to think that Tim was asleep again when he opened his eyes, and in place of the exhaustion he'd seen before, there was pain.

"Tony...you know what?"

"What?"

"I can forgive you for telling Gibbs. I can. If it comes right down to it, he's who _should_ be told about suspicions of abuse. Even though you knew what he would do...and thought I deserved it, I can forgive you for telling Gibbs."

Tim stopped talking and seemed tired out by the declaration. ...and yet, Tony was sure he wasn't done.

"But?"

Another tired smile.

"But I can't forgive you for thinking that of me when all you had to go on was some out of character behavior...on both our parts. I can't forgive you for automatically assuming that I had done something wrong, that I was the one at fault. I can't forgive you for thinking that it was all about me and not about Abby." Tim winced as he shook his head again. "I can't forgive you for thinking that I would hit my wife."

Tony nodded. "I can...I can see that, McGee. I can't really say that I was justified. I stuck my nose in. I made assumptions and you know what happens when you assume."

"Yeah...well, forgive me if I don't think that it applies to me in this case. I might have been not acting the greatest, but if that adage applies to anyone, I think it's you."

Tony noticed that Tim wasn't acting angry, just tired. Hurt. ...but not angry.

"You're probably right."

"You must really feel bad, Tony. You've said I was right and you've not made a single joke in here...at least not any that were actually funny."

Tony laughed weakly. "Believe it or not, McGee, I do. I really do. I wish I could go back and not make the assumptions I did."

"I wish I could go back and have none of this have happened, but we don't get what we want, Tony." Tim sighed. "I don't know if I'll be able to forgive you anytime soon. It's hard to accept someone you thought was a friend, even as prickly as we are, it's hard to accept that a friend could think that of me. Could believe it...and enough to jump to that conclusion."

Tony nodded again but couldn't think of anything to say. Tim yawned.

"I can go, McGee."

"Do you know why I wanted to talk to you now?"

"No."

"Because I have enough crap I have to deal with right now to let this part fester. I'm..." Tim trailed off and seemed to drift for a few seconds before he refocused. "Talking with you like this is hard to do right now. It's taking every bit of concentration I have to get all the words out, to keep my mind on it, but I need to get rid of some of the pressure, Tony. Abby's mad at you...because that's how she is. I'm not mad. I'm hurt, and that takes a lot longer to heal. I can't believe that you would think that of me and it will take some time for me to get over it. So...let me have the time. I'll let you know when I am."

Then, Tim's eyes closed and he exhaled. It was a long, deep sigh...and Tony could tell that Tim was now down for the count. He stood up and left the room.

...and now, he understood just what he'd done...and that _he_ couldn't fix it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Tim was admitted to the hospital for at least the next week while they monitored his brain activity, had him on anti-seizure medication and checked on his mental acuity as well as the possibility of further bleeding. For the first couple of days after his seizure, Tim was mostly out of it. The medication made him feel dizzy and sleepy and that meant a distinct lack of energy on his part. However, by the following Tuesday, he was starting to perk up again. His doctor had scheduled one more MRI for the next morning and, if all was well, had promised Tim that they would take him off the medication. If he didn't have any seizures for the next two weeks, then the odds of him having any more went down dramatically.

Tim was more relieved than he could ever say that, medically-speaking at least, things were looking up. Being able to live his life without fear of having another seizure was something he didn't want to give up.

Abby went back to work on Monday, but only after Tim urged her to do so, joking that she was the only one earning a paycheck right now. So...she went back. She was a bit stiff with Ziva and Tony, but Abby was the last person who was able to hold a grudge for days and she was loosening up a bit.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Mrs. McGee, do you have a moment?"

Abby was surprised at hearing Vance behind her and she turned around.

"Hi!" she said, not able to think of anything else. "Um...what do you need, Director Vance?"

"Nothing in particular at the moment, but I was hoping to hear how your husband is doing."

"Oh! ...um...he's doing a lot better. He's having another MRI tomorrow, but he's actually noticing enough to be tired of being stuck in the hospital." Abby smiled.

"How much longer will he be there?"

"At least until Friday. He's going to have another evaluation then and we'll see what's going to be best."

"The prognosis?"

Abby smiled, mostly with relief. "Dr. Ashton says that she thinks Tim will make a full recovery...but that it will take some time." She bit her lip. "...but Tim won't be allowed to drive for a while because of his seizure. Even when he's back to normal, he'll still have to go seizure-free for a few months before he'll be able to drive legally."

"To be expected. Would he be open to my speaking with him while he's still in the hospital?"

"Oh...I don't know. I can ask him when I go over tonight. I don't know if he'll want to see anyone while he's stuck in a hospital bed."

"I'm not insisting, but let me know if he will allow it. Preferably tomorrow afternoon."

Abby nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you."

Abby watched Vance go and tried to decide why she was so surprised by his interest. Vance had always thought a lot of Tim...from the very beginning. It was clear that he and Tim thought a lot the same way. ...and in some strange way, it appeared that Vance felt responsible for Tim's well-being, as far as NCIS was concerned anyway.

Well, it was nice to have _someone_ thinking of Tim first.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim stretched, trying to find a truly comfortable position. He wasn't succeeding, unfortunately. Hospital beds just lacked something when it came to delivering comfort. Still, he was at least sleeping at night now...and only napping occasionally during the day. That was something. He sat up and sighed. As bad as life in the outside world was, he really wanted to leave the hospital. He couldn't do anything about it while sitting around in here. ...and the last few days had given him time to think...and to come to some conclusions. ...and he couldn't do anything about those conclusions while confined to a hospital bed.

_At least I'm allowed to go to the bathroom by myself now. ...at least I _can_ do that now._

Tim smiled a bit ruefully and carefully maneuvered himself out of bed. The dizzy spells had continued somewhat but much less than the week before. Even so, he figured he didn't want to risk any more drawbacks. His current physical condition was severely hampering his mental condition...and he didn't like that.

"Tim?"

Tim paused and turned around slowly.

"Hey, Abbs."

"You're out of bed."

Tim smiled. The only thing more awkward than his current physical status was his relationship with his wife.

"Yep. Just getting ready to run a mile or two...maybe swim a few laps. ...stand on my head. You know. The usual."

As he had hoped, Abby grinned and some of her tension faded.

"Or...you know, I could just be answering the call of nature. Takes me a while."

"You need any help?"

"I think I remember how to pee, Abby."

"Just checking."

That was more like it had been in the past. Tim went into the bathroom, did his business and came back out.

"I do like watching you in the hospital gown, though, Tim."

Tim felt his cheeks flush, even though he knew he wasn't really showing anything off. They were letting him wear boxers at least.

"You're going to raise my blood pressure with that kind of talk, Abbs," Tim said as he settled back on the bed, tired out by the short walk, but satisfied that he didn't feel worse than before.

"How are you feeling? Really."

Tim sighed. Back to the serious stuff. There was too much of it to avoid it for long.

"Still tired. Still a bit loopy, but more like myself...after facing some sort of debilitating flu for weeks. I'm better, Abby...just not..._better_."

"Would you feel up to accepting a visitor?"

"Depends on who it is."

"Director Vance."

Tim's eyes widened in surprise. "Director Vance? Does he–?"

"He doesn't know about...about me, what I did. He knows about Gibbs and Tony and what they thought though."

Tim felt his stomach clench at the memory. He still couldn't believe it, no matter how often he thought of what had happened.

"Oh...I forgot."

"What?"

"Vance suggested that if we wanted to talk to a married couple, that he and Mrs. Vance were willing. If you want to. Some time. Maybe."

"Okay. Is that what he wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh, no. That's not it. I think it's about...I think it's about Gibbs, actually, but he didn't say that to me. I'm just guessing because I can't think of anything else that it would be...unless he's just worried about you, but it seemed to be a real work concern and..."

"Abby?" Tim asked.

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to fill the silence. It's okay."

Abby sank down on the bed and looked at Tim for a long time, her eyes just staring into his. Then, suddenly, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.

"Oh, Tim. I love you so much and I'm so _so_ sorry for everything that's happened, everything I've done and everything everyone else has done and if you don't want to go back to NCIS, that's okay!"

"Not go back?" Tim asked, staring down at her head. "What do you mean?"

Abby let him go. "With everything that's happened...what people were thinking of you...I was afraid that you wouldn't want to go back."

Tim cocked his head to the side and it surprised him to realize that he'd never seriously considered leaving NCIS. Oh, he'd thought of it in a general, vague way, but not as a viable possibility.

"No, Abby. I'm not going to leave. I don't know when I'll be able to go back, but I'm not leaving."

"You're not?"

"No."

There was a long silence as Tim tried to marshal his thoughts together, get his brain working so he could explain himself.

"I'm not going to let Gibbs be the one to push me away from the job I've always wanted," he said finally. "I'm not going to be forced out of NCIS when it's the one place I've been shooting for since I was a kid."

"Won't it be hard?"

"Yes...but what I'm going to have to do is change how I look at things."

"What do you mean?"

Tim shifted on the bed, feeling uncomfortable in more than one way. Saying his thoughts aloud was going to make them real...and they were painful thoughts, but true thoughts. It did no good to hide from them anymore.

"I mean that I'm finally getting it."

"Getting what?"

"Gibbs doesn't care about me. Tony doesn't care about me."

"Tim, yes, they–"

Tim shook his head. "No, Abbs. Don't make it a lie. I'm their coworker. Tony is a friend to some degree, but Gibbs thinks of me as his employee, not anything more. He thinks of you as something more. Tony and Ziva both look to him as a kind of surrogate father figure. Me...I don't need him like that; so he doesn't look at me as anything other than someone who works for him." Tim shrugged, even as the words stung. "That's why he never cares about what might be my side of the story. That's why he only cares about anything that might have hurt you. That's why Tony automatically assumes that everything is my fault... It's because when it comes to family, you always support them against the outside world. ...and that's what I am to them, Abby. You're their family. I'm the outside world. I'm the invader. I'm the guy who comes from a background that doesn't make sense to them. I'm the guy who has a great family. I'm the guy who...who doesn't fit in and so I won't ever fit in."

Abby took Tim's hand and squeezed it tightly, tears glistening in her eyes as she listened to him...but for once, she didn't try to interrupt.

"I've spent over seven years trying to have the same kind of...interactions with Gibbs that the rest of you get, but I've failed. What happened two weeks ago was just the final blow...literally." Abby laughed sadly. "So...I'm going to go back there when I've recovered, but I'm not going to expect friendship from them. I'm not going to expect anything but the job. I love my job. I loved it before I joined Gibbs' team. I can love it as my job. I don't need to spend every waking minute worrying about what they think of me. What I need is to do my job and do it right. I can trust them to have my back in the field. ...I just can't trust them to have my back anywhere else."

The tears escaped from Abby's eyes and she hugged him again, but differently from before.

"Oh, Tim. I hate that you feel that way!"

"It's the truth, Abby, and you know it. If they really thought of me anywhere _near_ to how they think of you...they never would have believed or done what they did. You know it. I know it."

"But, Tim, it's just me! It's not that they don't like you!"

"Man, then I'd hate to see how they treat their enemies, if I'm an example of how they treat their friends."

Abby shook her head. "No, Tim. That's not it! This...This was...was bad. Really bad. Really _really_ bad, but they do care about you! Tony feels really bad about it! Ziva's so nervous about speaking to you again that she's avoiding _me_!"

"And Gibbs?"

"No one has seen him for a while. He's still on suspension."

Tim tried to unlatch Abby from his neck.

"Abby. Abby...let go for a minute. Okay?"

Abby sat back, but she was still holding his hand.

"Abby, Gibbs hasn't been around because _you're_ mad at him, not because of what he did to me. He knows that you're angry and doesn't want to face that. If you sought him out and forgave him, that would be it. It would be over. Whether he thought he should or not, he wouldn't say anything to me." Tim took a breath and let it out slowly. "The MCRT is like a dysfunctional family, Abby. ...but I'm not a part of it and I never will be in that way. That's life."

"...and you can work like that? Work with Gibbs?"

"Yes. Gibbs is good at what he does, even if I don't always like how he does it. He'd never let anyone at me if we were under attack at work."

Abby bit her lip. "What about Thanksgiving?"

Tim smiled. "We'll worry about that when it comes up, Abby. I think we have enough to worry about right now."

Abby nodded and sat back, still holding tightly to Tim's hand. Then, she looked at him.

"Do you want to talk to Vance?"

"Sure."

"He wanted to come in the afternoon tomorrow."

"That's fine. I'll be here."

"I love you Tim," Abby said.

Tim leaned forward and kissed Abby on the cheek. "I love you, too, Abbs. Maybe all this crap will be good for us...somehow. There's got to be _something_ positive from all this. Right?"

Abby said nothing but slid around so that she could lie next to him. They lay together in silence.

As they did Tim tried to think of something good from what had happened. There had to be something.

Right?


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Ms. Cook, I have an appointment this afternoon. It shouldn't take me more than an hour or two, but I don't want to be disturbed unless it's vitally important."

"Understood, sir," Pamela said. "I'll take all your messages."

"Oh, and if I haven't left in an hour, come in and tell me that I need to."

Pamela smiled. "Will do, sir."

"Thank you."

Vance returned to his office, thinking about his coming meeting with Tim and wondering just how bad things were for him. Personally, they seemed to have hit bottom, but physically, he did hope that Tim was recovering. It was just not fair that so many things had gone wrong so quickly...no matter what the catalyzing event might have been.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby set the mass spectrometer running and sat down to wait for the results.

There was no music playing. None of it seemed right for what was going on in her life. Eventually, she knew, she'd get back into the swing of things here, but right now, it was just hard. Tim was still in the hospital. Gibbs was still suspended. ...she was still an adulterer.

The more she thought about it, the less sense it made...because she couldn't think of any of the guys she'd dated before who had fit with her like Tim did. That wasn't to say that she hadn't had fun with them, that she hadn't cared for anyone else. She had...but Tim was different and always had been.

"_Hey, Abby..."_

"_What, Tim?"_

"_You got a minute?"_

"_Sure."_

"_Good. Would you go out with me again?"_

Abby laughed in recollection. She had been so surprised by the question that she'd dropped her (thankfully-empty) test tube she'd been preparing. The funny thing was that she'd said no at first. They were finally friends again without all that jealousy. She didn't want to ruin that with another failed attempt at dating. ...but what had surprised her was that Tim hadn't pressed the matter. In fact, he had accepted it almost magnanimously and then had gone on, not showing any particle of distress. ...which had distressed _her_. Didn't Tim like her? Didn't he care? The continual cycle of questions about Tim's motivations had shown her that, whether Tim did or not, _she_ still cared. ...and that mattered.

"_Tim?"_

"_Yeah, Abbs."_

"_Do you still want to go out?"_

"_Yes."_

Just like that...they had started dating again. Abby wasn't exactly doing the pursuing, but Tim's much less possessive demeanor, his lack of pressure on their relationship had pushed her to evaluate what she wanted. She hadn't understood until months into their renewed relationship that Tim had planned it that way. He had known how to get at what she really wanted. Finally, after however many years, he had truly understood her. His casual attitude had hidden his continued love for her, a love that he only showed once he was sure that she really loved him back, that it wasn't something she was just saying.

"_Tim, do you love me?"_

_He smiled. "Why do you ask?"_

"_Because you haven't said it. Not once in six months."_

"_Do you love me?"_

"_Of course!"_

_Tim shook his head. "No, Abby, do you love me?"_

"_Yes, Tim. I love you."_

_The smile changed to something more. "I love you, Abby...more than anything."_

She had expected a proposal right there...and then been surprised when it hadn't happened. They had gone on, dating exclusively, getting closer and closer. It had been more than a year that they had been dating again.

"_Abby."_

"_Tim?"_

"_Marry me."_

"_Okay."_

There had been a lot of words after that (a lot of things Tim wanted and needed to say), but the moment itself was so brief...and yet, Abby had read volumes in Tim's eyes. He had managed to hide his planned proposal from her completely. He had gone ring shopping alone...and she couldn't have picked out anything better.

The wedding rings were dominated by onyx. Abby's ring was an onyx band set in platinum with an inset dark red ruby. His wedding ring was also platinum with a single thick band of onyx running around the middle.

"_Tim, it's beautiful. How did you know what to get?"_

"_I know you, Abby."_

It was all so beautiful, so wonderful.

"How could I have ruined all that?" Abby asked the machine humming away in front of her.

That was the question and she understood now why Tim had asked her for a reason. There had to be a reason why she was willing to risk losing all that Tim had given her, all that they had built together...for one stupid night.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Vance knocked politely on the door and waited for a response.

"Just a minute," came a voice and then, after a few seconds, "Come in."

Vance opened the door and saw Tim in the hospital bed. He silently scrutinized his agent. He looked both better and worse than Vance had expected. Better because he had obviously just settled himself in the bed, meaning that he was well enough to walk around. Worse because of the sickly-looking rainbow gracing his jaw and the slightly-dazed look in his eyes, illustrating his continued need for recovery.

Tim met Vance's gaze and flushed slightly, obviously a little embarrassed at being seen as he was, but he covered quickly.

"Director Vance."

"Good afternoon, Agent McGee. I appreciate you seeing me now. I know this isn't the ideal situation to talk but it's been two weeks and I need to make a decision about Agent Gibbs' future at NCIS."

"What do you need from me?" Tim asked.

"A statement, first detailing what happened leading to your hospitalization. Fights have happened among coworkers before, unfortunately. However, the circumstances of this particular altercation require investigation."

"How much do you need to know...Director?" There was a subtle emphasis on his title that gave Vance a moment's pause. Tim was asking more than one question. How much did NCIS need to know about Tim's personal life and how much did Leon Vance want to know?

"I only need to know those events leading _directly_ to Agent Gibbs' assault...Agent McGee."

Tim nodded, understanding Vance's answer to his unspoken question.

"I'll be recording this, if you don't mind."

"No, sir. I don't mind."

"Good." Vance placed the recorder on the side table, and sat down, gesturing for Tim to begin.

"Over the weekend, Abby and I...my wife and I...we went to Home Depot to get some stuff for the backyard. While we were there, Abby decided to try and climb the shelves rather than wait for someone to come help us. She lost her footing and fell." Tim actually smiled. "She managed to use both her arm and her face to break her fall before I could catch her. We almost got booted from the store when we were found out." Tim paused and added defensively, "I didn't hit Abby. Three store employees can vouch for what happened."

"I don't think you beat your wife, Agent McGee."

Tim looked down. "Thank you, sir," he said softly. "I guess Tony had been thinking it already and seeing Abby with a black eye convinced him."

"So what happened that morning?"

"Abby and I went to work separately. We'd been doing that for the last few days. I went down to Autopsy to talk to Ducky when I arrived. While I was down there, I got a text message from Agent Gibbs. He wanted me to come up to the lab."

"Did he say why?"

"No. Just that I needed to get up there ASAP."

"You had no suspicions of what might be coming?"

"None." Tim let out a pained and disbelieving laugh. "Who ever thinks that their friends would assume the worst about them? I certainly didn't. I only thought it was weird that Gibbs had taken the time to send a text. I didn't even think he knew how."

"So you went up to the lab?"

"Yeah. I walked in. Gibbs wasn't facing me; so I started to ask him what he wanted...but I didn't get a chance. He turned around and hit me."

"He didn't say anything to you?"

"Not that I remember. Some of that time is a bit hazy for me." Tim hesitated. "He hit me really hard."

"I can see that. All right...so tell me about the physical effects."

"I had a severe concussion, a little cut on the back of my head from hitting the fridge door and breaking it. That wouldn't have been too bad, but my doctor says that I developed a slow bleed, probably from hitting the fridge. Slow enough that the CT scan didn't pick it up. So it didn't get stopped and I had a seizure. Abby told you that I'm not allowed to drive for six months?"

"Yes, she mentioned it."

"Okay. I'm not going to be ready to go back to work for a few more weeks, probably. Dr. Ashton says that could change depending on what happens over the next week."

"And you do _want _to come back?"

"Yes."

"Back to the MCRT?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"No reservations about working with them again?"

"No."

"Even if Agent Gibbs returns to his position?"

"He's a good agent, Director."

"He assaulted you, Agent McGee. Are you excusing him?"

"No." Tim took a deep breath. "No, I'm not excusing him. I...I'm appalled by what he did. I'm hurt by it...but that doesn't change what kind of an agent he is, only how I feel about him personally."

"Does that mean you won't be bringing any charges against him?"

"Charges?"

"Assault charges. Agent Gibbs attacked you without provocation. You could take him to court for that."

Tim was silent for almost a full minute, digesting Vance's question. Vance could see that the idea both tempted and repelled him. Bringing criminal charges against a man he had admired and almost idolized was not something that occurred to someone like Tim. Vance waited for Tim to decide, not pushing.

"No, Director," Tim said, finally. "No, that's not what I want. Whatever punishment you decide to give him will be enough for me."

"That's very noble of you, Agent McGee."

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No, it's just the result of having two weeks to think about it all. If you'd had the chance to ask me before...I might not have been able to think this way. Being stuck either in bed at home or in a bed here has given me a lot of time to think...when my brain was working at least. What bothers me is not so much what they all did so much as what they were willing to believe..and while I can't respect them for that and I'm not ready to forgive them...I'm not the thought police and people can't be punished for what they think. ...but Agent Gibbs violated NCIS policy...and that should be addressed according to NCIS policy. I don't want to feel responsible for whatever happens to him."

Tim fell silent again, one of his hands rubbing his bruised jaw.

"Is that wrong of me?" he asked. "Is it cowardly?"

Vance smiled. "Well, it puts more of the onus on me, but since the final decision rests with me in any case, I don't think it's wrong."

"But it's cowardly, isn't it."

"Not wanting to take your revenge but instead trusting me to do the right thing? No, Agent McGee, that is not cowardly. I don't know the right word for it, but it's not cowardly."

"What will you do then, sir?"

"I'm not sure just yet, Agent McGee. I do know that I'll be speaking with Agent Gibbs before I make my final decision, but while he has the right to dispute the action taken, I highly doubt he will."

"Why not?"

"Because he knows what he did was wrong whether he admits it to anyone or not. That means that, by his own sense of justice, he'll have to pay the price for it."

Tim said nothing. He leaned back against the bed and looked pensive. Vance stood to go, but then paused.

"McGee," he said.

Tim looked up, his eyes reflecting some surprise at the dropping of his title.

"Yes?"

"What are the odds that you'll be released by Sunday evening?"

"Oh...um...pretty good, I think. I hope."

"Should things go as planned for you, how would you and your wife like to join my family for dinner on Sunday?"

Vance almost laughed at Tim's eyes bugging out in response to his question. It distracted him from his dreary thoughts, but Vance felt there was another reason for the invitation: Tim had, in essence, been divorced from the close (if often turbulent) connections he'd had before. He needed to feel as though there were still people at NCIS wanting him around...as himself. Besides, Jackie could make anyone feel welcome if she wanted to. She was much better at it than he was, truth be told.

"McGee, this isn't a trick question, just a friendly invitation to dinner."

"Sh-Should we bring anything?"

"Just yourselves. Jackie wouldn't be happy if I made you two responsible for any part of the meal."

"Abby and I...don't really cook much anyway," Tim said vaguely.

"After everything you've been going through, don't feel required to bring anything, not even the traditional bottle of wine."

"What if I'm not released by then?"

"Just call us and let us know. We'll have leftovers."

"Okay."

"That's a yes?"

"Yeah. That's...that's a yes."

"Good. I'll see you on Sunday, then. We usually eat dinner at around six-thirty."

"Okay. I'll...tell Abby...when she comes."

Vance nodded. "Oh, and Agent McGee?"

"Yes...sir?"

"When it becomes appropriate for you to consider returning to work, schedule an appointment with me and we'll decide how best to accommodate your driving restrictions for as long as they last."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"It's in my best interest to keep you employed at NCIS," Vance said and turned to leave.

"No..._thank_ you," Tim said again, his voice earnest.

Vance turned back briefly and saw Tim's pained expression.

"You're welcome, McGee," he said and left the room.

There was time to make one more stop before returning to NCIS.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Vance paused to straighten his tie before knocking on Gibbs' door. He hadn't tried it to see if it was locked or not. He didn't care. This was all going to be on the level...and unlike Gibbs, Vance didn't make a habit of barging into people's homes.

There was no response.

...but there was always a first time.

He tried the knob. It turned.

"Gibbs!"

No response.

Vance sighed and headed toward the basement.

"Not down there."

Vance paused and turned toward the main room.

"Not your usual hideout," he said.

Gibbs shrugged. He was sitting on his couch, looking for all the world like Vance had simply interrupted a relaxing day at home.

"You have a few minutes?"

"Got a lot more than a few."

Vance walked over and sat down.

"Didn't invite you in."

"You didn't lock your door...and it has a lock now. If you didn't want to see anyone, you know how use it."

"What do you want, Leon?"

"Believe it or not, I'm here to talk to you...and to listen if you'd manage to open your mouth to speak more than four words at a time."

"About what?"

"About what you did to Agent McGee and how long you'll be on suspension. I'm going to speak with you, make my decision, let you know. You can decide whether or not to fight it."

"I won't."

"Regardless, we're doing this by the book."

"Fine."

"So, first of all, you need to tell me what happened."

"Already did that once."

Vance rolled his eyes. "No, I talked and you either agreed or disagreed. This time, you're going to talk."

"You gonna fire me?"

"No."

"Why not? I'll bet it's crossed your mind."

"Of course it has, and I think you deserve it in this case, but it's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because Agent McGee doesn't want you to be fired."

There. _That_ got a reaction. Gibbs sat up and stared at him.

"He has also expressed a wish to return to _your_ team when he is physically able to do so."

"Physically able? He got a concussion."

"Which led to bleeding on his brain, culminating in a major seizure earlier this week."

Another definite reaction. This time, it was more than just surprise. It was definite regret and maybe even anguish.

"If you hadn't been hiding yourself from the world, sulking, you might have known about it."

"You suspended me."

"Yes. I did not make you isolate yourself. I know for a fact that at least two different people have come here attempting to speak to you and found your door locked. So...that means that you must have got tired of the isolation, but it was too late to get the news of McGee's most recent hospitalization. In fact, he's still there, hopefully to be released tomorrow, but on very restricted activity."

"He wants back on my team?"

"Yes. He does."

"He say why?"

"Because he says that you're a good agent and you know what you're doing. He's not going to bring any assault charges against you and he said he would abide by whatever decision I make. ...but on a personal level, I think you've got a long way to go with him...if you even care about that."

"What makes you think I don't?" Gibbs asked, a little angrily.

"The fact that this situation has occurred at all. You certainly weren't at all concerned with McGee's well-being when you flew off the handle and punched him in the face. I think he's decided that you don't care about him as a fellow human being at all, only as an employee. He didn't say that to me, but it was in the tenor of his words. Whether you do or not, McGee doesn't think you do...and it will take a lot to change that perception."

No response. Vance stifled a long-suffering sigh.

"So...tell me what happened, what you were thinking," Vance said and set out a recorder on the coffee table.

There was a long silence, but this time, Vance made no effort to break it. He just waited for Gibbs to speak. He knew what had happened, but he needed Gibbs' point of view...and he couldn't get that if he just filled in the large gaps in what Gibbs had previously been willing to say.

Finally, Gibbs sighed and spoke in a dull tone. "Tony came to me, asking to talk to me about Abby. He said that he was worried that McGee might have been abusing her. He told me about her bruises, the fact that she wouldn't say where they had come from. We'd all noticed that McGee and Abby had seemed to be fighting the last few days. McGee was upset and Abby was crying."

"What did Tony want you to do?"

"He wanted me to talk to Abby, get her to say what had happened to her. He figured that she would talk to me, even if she could hide it from other people."

"And?" Vance prompted.

"And Tony waited by the elevator while I went into the lab to talk to Abby. She was in her office. I saw her through the window, but she didn't notice me. I saw the bruises, and she seemed upset. I called McGee up to the lab."

"With what intention? Did you want to accuse him, confront him?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No. I wanted to punch him out for hitting Abby. That's why I used the text message thing on my phone. I didn't want to tip him off."

"Did you even consider the possibility of another explanation?"

"Not really. I trust Tony. I figured he wouldn't say anything unless he was sure, not about something like this."

"Trustworthy he may be, but even the most trustworthy person can make a mistake."

"Obviously," Gibbs said.

"Continue."

Gibbs looked down at the recorder on the table, innocently making a copy of what he said.

"McGee came in, didn't seem to realize anything was going on. He started to ask what I needed him for, but I didn't let him finish. I hit him as hard as I could. Tony came in from somewhere. If he saw McGee on his way in, he hadn't warned him at all. Abby came out and tried to get to McGee to help him."

"Agent David? Where was she?"

"She joined us, but before that, I assume she was in the bullpen."

Vance nodded and gestured silently.

"I didn't let her. I figured that with McGee out of the way for the moment, she would come clean. ...but I was wrong. She had an explanation for what happened."

Something about the way Gibbs spoke made Vance interrupt.

"Did you not believe her, Agent Gibbs?"

"No, I didn't...not until I called the Home Depot and asked them about it. It was verified by store employees."

"You mean that you still believed what Agent DiNozzo had told you, even _after_ getting the whole story from Mrs. McGee?"

"Yes. I've seen more than one victim of abuse defend her abuser. Who's to say that Abby wouldn't be the same?"

That made sense from an investigative point of view, and yet, Gibbs hadn't been acting like an investigator before that.

"But you know the whole story, parts of it that I'm not privy to...don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you decided that Mrs. McGee had made those up?"

Now, Gibbs actually shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't want to believe that they were true."

Vance wished he knew, but as Ducky had said, it was Tim's story to tell and he couldn't, in good conscience, ask Gibbs to say...and have it preserved on record.

"But now you know they are?"

"Yes. McGee didn't hit Abby, probably never even dreamed of it."

"When this is over and McGee returns to work, how do you think this offense will affect your team and its efficiency?"

"Depends on McGee."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Only on McGee? The rest of you won't have to worry?"

"No. It depends on how he acts when he comes back...whether or not we go back to normal."

Vance reached out and turned off the recorder before laughing in Gibbs' face.

"Back to normal?" he asked incredulously. "Do you honestly think that's even a _possibility _at this point? Things won't go back to normal...and based on what happened, I don't even think they should. Do you?"

Gibbs said nothing.

"Anything else you'd like to say?"

"No."

Vance stood up, all business once more. "I'll get a letter drafted and sent to you before the end of today."

"Fine. You can find your own way out."

"You have an agent who thought the world of you and would have done anything you asked of him, without overt complaint. It's a shame you were so willing to forget that."

Gibbs said nothing in reply and so Vance walked out the door without another word.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

When Vance returned to NCIS, he called Pamela in to his office to help him draft a letter. Everyone in the bullpen saw him come back, and many suspected where he'd been. Tony and Ziva looked up and watched him walk, but he didn't even look down at them.

"Hey, guys?"

They looked at Geri, guiltily. She was sitting at Gibbs' desk, having been temporarily promoted to team leader in Gibbs' absence.

"Yeah, Geri?"

"You've got work to do," she said, not demanding but firm. "I know you don't like the cold cases and reports, but this is what we've got to do."

"Sorry, Geri," Tony mumbled and picked up the case report he'd read five times already...without taking in a single word. He tried to focus on it.

_...phone records indicate that..._

He hadn't been to see Tim since talking to him in the hospital. Should he have gone back to check on him? To show that he did still care? To grovel some more? Or should he have stayed away and given Tim space?

_...phone records..._

What would it take for Tim to be able to forgive him for this...rather lamentable lapse in judgment?

_...phone records indicate that PFC Dallin..._

What about Gibbs? Would he get fired for this? Would his career and reputation be ruined because of Tony's inability to keep things to himself?

_...that PFC Dallin..._

How could this have happened? A month ago, if someone had suggested that Tony would have suspected Tim to be an abuser, that Gibbs would punch Tim out because he believed the same thing...well, Tony would have laughed. No one in their right mind would think that Tim would be capable of something like that.

_...indicate that PFC Dallin was in contact..._

Tony sighed aloud.

"What is it, Tony?" Ziva asked, leaning around her computer.

"Nothing."

"Yes. That is what I am thinking of as well." Her mouth twitched in a small smile and then she returned to her reading.

The rest of the day passed in much the same manner, and Tony never did finish reading the report he'd been looking at, but when Geri gave up and told them to leave, he was reluctant to go. Only the elevator ding drew his attention from his thoughts.

"End of the day?" Ducky asked congenially.

Geri groaned, although she smiled. "Fortunately, yes. Their work ethic is going to reflect horribly on me, Ducky. Any recommendations?"

"I'm afraid I can give you none. I'm heading over to the hospital to visit Timothy. Abigail has been forced to stay late and I thought Timothy might appreciate the company. Would anyone like to accompany me?"

Tony shook his head. "Nah, Ducky. Thanks, though."

Ducky nodded in understanding.

"I will go with you, Ducky. I have not been to see McGee at all."

"Shall we, then?"

Ziva gathered her belongings smiled at Tony and left.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Geri?" Tony responded only absently.

"I said that you might as well leave. You're not getting anything done here." She stood up and grabbed her coat. "If you don't want to go, you could always go and keep Abby company."

"Yeah...I could do that."

Geri walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder. "You could try it, at least. Maybe it will help you focus on your job more."

Tony smiled ruefully. "Yeah. Maybe."

"See you tomorrow."

After the elevator doors had closed on Geri, Tony sat back. Maybe it was a good idea. After all, Abby might appreciate the chance to rip him a new one. He smiled at the thought...and then got up and headed for Abby's lab.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs checked his email (having reluctantly purchased a computer the year before...and got Tim to set it up for him) and found a message from Vance. He sighed and opened it.

_RE: Adverse Action taken for assault on Special Agent Timothy McGee_

_Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs:_

_In light of recent events, interviews and your admission of guilt in the matter of the unprovoked assault on Special Agent Timothy McGee, it has been decided that your actions warrant adverse action in the form of one month suspension (including time already spent on suspension), a permanent tag in your file, documenting the sequence of events culminating in the assault on Agent McGee, and a period of probation upon return to activity of no less than six months. During this time, you will be required to meet regularly with your immediate superior (NCIS Director Leon Vance) to determine your progress. Any breaking of the rules and regulations of NCIS during this period will result in immediate removal from your position and a termination of your employ at NCIS._

_You have the right to appeal this decision. If such is your desire you have..._

Gibbs didn't finish reading the letter. All he wanted to know was his punishment. One month of suspension and a period of probation for what could have actually killed an innocent man. If Tim had chosen to bring criminal charges against him, he could have gone to jail, probably would have given the circumstances.

Tim had chosen not to pursue that...and had expressed a desire to return to work with him. Why? If his intent was to twist the knife, he was succeeding. Gibbs knew that he deserved a harsher punishment than he had received. Not only had he been totally out of line (even if Tim _had_ been guilty of abuse), he had not been willing to believe the worst of Abby...only the worst of Tim. It made him sick to think of it, both what Tim had been going through and what he himself had put Tim through.

If he thought it would help, he would apologize...but how did one apologize for something like this?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Vance was definitely glad to get home.

"Jackie!"

"Hey, Leon. What's the occasion? You're home on time!"

Vance smiled. "Things just worked out that way." He took off his jacket and headed back into the kitchen. Jackie was bent over a pot on the stove, stirring vigorously.

"Well, dinner won't be ready for about twenty minutes yet; so you'll have to wait."

"Where are the kids?"

"Eating dinner with friends. Just you and me, tonight."

"Good." He put his arms around her. "I love you."

Jackie stopped stirring and turned around. "I love you, too, but what brought this on?"

"Appreciation of what I have."

Jackie wrapped her arms around Vance's neck. "Did you talk to the McGees?"

Vance nodded. "Yeah. They're coming...as long as Agent McGee gets out of the hospital. He thinks he will, but he doesn't know for certain."

"Okay. I'll still plan on it." She turned back to her pot and gave it another vigorous stir before turning off the burner. "Do you have any idea what kind of problems they're having?"

"None...only that it hasn't been helped by everything that's been going on. You want me to set the table?"

"Let's eat out on the patio. It's nice out tonight, and there's only the two of us."

"Sure thing." He headed for the cabinet and got out the plates and utensils.

"One thing, Leon."

"Yes?"

"You're not going to be formal with them on Sunday, are you?"

"Formal?"

"Yes, Agent McGee and Mrs. McGee. Will they be that or will they be Tim and Abby?"

"Oh." Vance hadn't considered that. There would be awkwardness either way, but this wasn't supposed to be an official dinner and titles wouldn't make them comfortable. "It had better be first names, although I'll bet Agent McGee...Tim will have trouble with that...at least as far as I'm concerned."

Jackie laughed. "I'm sure of that, based on what you've said about him. It was good of you to do this. It sounds like they need it...and really, we should have invited them before."

"Being the director makes this kind of thing harder than you might think."

"I know, but you're good at separating work and home. Even if Tim isn't, you can show him how to do that."

"All right."

Vance took the plates out to the patio and looked back at Jackie in the kitchen. He smiled and walked back in. He put his arms around her.

"I love you, Jackie."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"There's no need to be nervous, my dear," Ducky said on the way to the hospital. "Timothy is well beyond his anger now. I would go so far as to suggest that he'll happy to see you."

"I am not nervous," Ziva said. "...but happy may be too far."

Ducky looked at Ziva's hands, tightly knotted together in her lap, and smiled.

"I think you overestimate your place in the hierarchy of problems Timothy is facing. I think you'll find that your behavior is low on his list."

"Do you think so?" Ziva asked, hopefully...and then flushed as Ducky smiled knowingly at her.

"I am sure of it."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony stood outside the doors to Abby's lab. It was really quiet inside the lab. None of Abby's usual music. He found that he just didn't know what to say to her, not after everything that had happened. Tony couldn't forget that it was his big mouth that had started all this. If he hadn't said anything, then all that Tim and Abby would have struggled with was...and here, Tony's mind still reeled...Abby's infidelity.

Abby, the woman who would take the side of a dog who had attacked someone near and dear to her just because she believed it was the right thing to do, Abby who couldn't keep a secret, who was a combination of goofiness and kindness personified. This was the person who had been unfaithful to her husband. Tony couldn't think why this boggled his mind to such a degree, but it did.

He looked at the doors and willed himself to step inside.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim sighed inwardly but didn't express any disappointment out loud.

"_I'm really sorry, Tim. These tests have to be run tonight and I can't just let them do their thing. I have to be here."_

"Abby, I understand. It's going to be boring here, tonight, but I understand."

"_I could come when they're done!"_

"No, Abbs. You should go home and get some sleep, play with Jethro. He's going to be so lonely. I can entertain myself for one night."

"_Are you sure?"_

"I'm positive. Abby, we never spent every single second together. We don't have to start now."

"_I just don't want you sitting there all alone in the hospital."_

"It's okay. I'll just be sleeping anyway. My MRI is early tomorrow; so I wouldn't be able to talk to you in the morning anyway."

"_Okay. I...I'm sorry, Tim."_

Tim heard what the real apology was. "We have time, Abbs. Oh...I almost forgot. Director Vance invited us to dinner on Sunday. I accepted. Is that all right with you?"

"_Wow. Really? Dinner at the Vances'? That's going to be weird."_

Tim smiled. "I know, but it was really nice of him to offer...and I'd like to go. Do you mind?"

"_No! Not at all! You sound happy about it, Tim."_

Tim tried to think of the words to explain why he was excited to go...even though it would be all kinds of awkward.

"It's just...he didn't have to do that, Abby. Director Vance didn't have to ask us to dinner. He didn't have to, but he did it anyway. ...he _wants_ us there."

There was a long silence and then Abby's voice was a little choked when she spoke again.

"_I'm glad, Tim. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"_

"Yeah, tomorrow. Here's hoping for a normal MRI."

"_I'll pray the rosary for you."_

Tim smiled, knowing that she would likely do just that. "Okay. Bye, Abbs. Good night."

"_I love you, Tim."_

Tim hung up and sat back. He couldn't bring himself to return the words Abby said all the time. Love for Abby too often meant something different than it did for him. Had she said it to the man she'd slept with? Did she mean it now or was this "I love you" the equivalent of "I'm sorry"? If it was, he didn't want to hear it. This was the problem. When he took the time to think about that part of the track his life had taken, he started to wonder what in the world he was trying to accomplish in this struggle to get back to normal.

_Does Abby _really_ love me or is it just what she says because it's what's expected?_

That Abby _cared_ for him, he didn't doubt...but love? That he didn't know. Not anymore. In a way, it was relief that she wouldn't be here tonight. Maybe he could just ignore that part of his life for a few hours.

A knock on his door pulled him from his rather bitter thoughts.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs sat at his computer. It wasn't on. He rarely used it, but now, he was remembering when he had, in essence, ordered Tim to come and set it up for him.

"_McGee!"_

"_Yes, Boss?"_

_Gibbs rolled his eyes at his own reluctance to ask for help. It was ridiculous but he had as much clue about setting up a computer as a monkey would._

"_My house. Saturday. Eight o'clock."_

"_Would that be PM or AM, Boss?"_

_No questioning. Even though it was clear from the expression on his face that he was confused, Tim didn't ask anything more than which eight o'clock Gibbs meant._

"_A__M. Don't be late."_

"_I won't."_

_Gibbs walked away._

Gibbs shook his head at himself. When Tim had come, he had seen the boxes and not even asked. He just got to work, draping his jacket over a chair and getting started. Gibbs hadn't talked to him, mostly because chit-chat was not his forte, but he had been there, watching with grudging awe at Tim's quick fingers, first hooking everything up and then typing as he uploaded and installed and did all the incomprehensible things required to make the mass of electronics and circuits run as a coherent unit.

"_All set, Boss. Do you have Internet?"_

"_I don't know."_

_Tim smiled. "All right, then you don't. I'm not sure if the prices will differ here in DC from Silver Spring, but you probably don't need the bandwidth I use. I'll set you up with basic high speed and..."_

"_Don't tell me what you're doing, McGee. Just do it and tell me how much it costs."_

_Tim nodded and borrowed Gibbs' phone to call. He talked in technobabble for a few minutes and then handed the phone to Gibbs to give his information and make an appointment._

"_Okay, Boss. It'll take a couple of days for them to come and connect your house, but I told them they needed to give you a specific time to be here because of our schedules. Everything should be working."_

Gibbs found out only a couple of months later that Tim had got him a deal because he had known how to talk to the computer people. He also discovered that Tim had set up his Internet to go directly to his email to make it easier for him to navigate. He wasn't quite that incompetent, but it was definitely easier.

He had never actually thanked Tim for his help. It was understood. It was always understood.

Wasn't it?

Gibbs sighed and looked at the blank monitor. No wonder Tim assumed he was only an employee. That's how he was treated...even when being asked for favors.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Come in?" Tim said, turning the sentence into a question.

There was a pause and then the door opened to reveal Ducky and Ziva. Tim found himself heartened just by their appearance.

"Hi!" he said. "What are guys are doing here?"

"Abigail told me that she would be unable to come to see you this evening. We thought you might appreciate some company."

Tim smiled. "Sure! Yeah...come on in. Have a seat. It's not...not exactly _exciting _here, not at all really." He rolled his eyes. "In fact, now that I can mostly think straight again, it's dead boring."

Ducky chuckled and sat down. Ziva did as well...after a slight hesitation.

"How are you feeling, Timothy?"

"A lot better. I still have headaches and I get dizzy when I stand up too quickly, but now that I'm off the anti-seizure meds and they got the bleeding stopped and everything, I feel a lot more like myself...except when I stand up."

"How much longer do you anticipate you will be here?"

"I have another MRI tomorrow to make sure there's no more bleeding and if that comes up negative, then I should be out by Sunday morning at the latest." Tim sighed. "I'll be glad to go home."

"I'm quite sure of that," Ducky said and then smiled with a hint of mischief. "Oh, I do believe I left my lights on. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Tim looked at him with a bit of surprise and then at Ziva who was distinctly uncomfortable.

"I could check for you, Ducky," Ziva said.

"No, that's quite all right. I can manage. You just have a nice chat with Timothy. It won't take long." He got up, smiling all the while and left.

There was an awkward silence.

"Uh...what was _that_ about, Ziva?" Tim asked.

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Ducky feels that we need to speak."

"About what?"

Ziva had no flippant answer and Tim got it.

"About all this...right?"

"Yes."

"What is there to say?" Tim asked. "Seems like words aren't really important right now. They can't undo what happened. I know that better than most."

Ziva nodded. "It is true, but I feel that I should apologize."

"You didn't do anything, Ziva."

"That is right. I did nothing." Ziva looked at her hands for a moment and seemed to steel herself to look Tim in the eye. "I did nothing. I knew of Tony's suspicions. I knew of his intention to speak to Gibbs about Abby's injuries and his worries about their cause. I knew all this and I did nothing more than tell Tony he should not say anything. I made no effort to speak to you or to prevent what came."

"Did you think Tony was right?"

"Not in particular, but it was one of a number of possibilities I could see, although the least likely in my mind."

Tim nodded even as he hated hearing his actions or suspected actions being treated so...so objectively. He couldn't really fault Ziva for approaching it that way, but he didn't like that her fallback was to avoid the fact that she knew Tim and instead just say that it was not likely.

"But I could have and I should have done more to prevent this. I could have quite easily, but I simply did not think it was...a big deal, merely annoying."

Tim let out a short laugh. "Annoying. That's one I haven't heard yet." He nodded. "Annoying."

"I did not realize, McGee. If I had known what Gibbs would do, I would have...at least warned you of what Tony was thinking. As long as Tony kept it to himself, I did not see that it would matter."

"Maybe not to you."

"If you did not know, then it would not have mattered to you either."

"I guess...but Ziva..." Tim looked at her. "What if...what if someone thought the worst of _you_? Even if they didn't do anything about it, if you found out, wouldn't you _hate_ it? Wouldn't it hurt you?"

Ziva winced and then nodded. "Yes, McGee, it would hurt. Can you forgive me for...standing by?"

Tim thought about it for a few seconds and then nodded. "Yes. It doesn't make everything okay, but I can forgive you for that." Tim hesitated. "Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What if it were someone else?"

Ziva cocked her head to the side. "I do not understand."

"What if I was the one who thought that...I don't know...that _Tony_ was abusing Abby. What if I thought that and told you? Would you react in the same way?"

"I do not know for certain. It is...impossible to know how I _would_ have acted."

"But you could guess, even if you couldn't know," Tim said. "Would you have done the same things? Acted...or _not_ acted in the same way? Would it be the same?"

"I do not know, McGee. I cannot even imagine it happening in any other way."

Tim wasn't sure how to take that statement. He wasn't sure he liked the implication.

"I could not have imagined _this_ happening if it had not already. It should not have happened."

"We can agree on that, at least," Tim said.

"McGee..." Ziva paused awkwardly. "...about Abby."

"No," Tim said, shaking his head. "No, I don't want to talk about that, okay?"

"All right. I think I understand."

"Thanks."

Ducky returned a few minutes later and pulled the conversation onto a much lighter track, making no mention of what they must have been discussing. Tim was glad. He wanted to forget for a while.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Abby?" Tony asked hesitantly.

A loud sniffle greeted his greeting.

"Abby?" Tony walked in and saw Abby huddled miserably on the floor while her machines did their work.

"What do you want, Tony?" Abby asked and sniffled again. "You can't be thinking that Tim hit me again because he's been in the hospital for the last week."

"Are you all right?"

Abby hugged Bert tightly. "Of course. I'm fine. I betrayed my husband in the worst way possible, could have let him die, and don't know if he loves me anymore! I'm great, Tony!"

Tony walked over and crouched down in front of her.

"Abby...why would you think that McGee doesn't love you? McGee worships the ground you walk on!"

Abby sniffed loudly again and then set Bert down and hugged Tony tightly, sobbing.

"He won't say it, Tony! He won't say he loves me anymore! I say it! I mean it and I say it! ...but Tim won't! Tim won't say he loves me! When we were going out, he didn't say it himself...not until he knew I felt the same way! He wouldn't say it until he was sure that I really loved him back. That means that he doesn't know anymore! So he won't say it, not until he's sure again. What if he's never sure? What if he doesn't believe that I love him? What if he goes away and never comes back? What if I've ruined everything, Tony?"

"Um..." Tony had no idea what to say. Part of him was just relieved that Abby was hugging him again. These problems...he just didn't know how to address any of them. His track record with relationships was not very good.

Abby's arms tightened around him and she buried her face in his shoulder. That meant he'd have mascara stains on his jacket.

"I wish I knew what to say, Abbs...but I don't have a clue."

To his surprise, Abby laughed through her tears and released him.

"That's because there isn't an answer, Tony. Tim and I...we need to talk, but we haven't been able to because of all this crap that's been happening. I just...I don't know what's going on in his head because he won't tell me. I used to be able to read him, but I just can't anymore. I don't know when it stopped being easy, but I can't."

The mass spectrometer beeped and Abby stood up, instantly back to doing her job even as the tears made black mascara streaks down her face.

"Abby?" Tony asked as she worked.

"What?"

"Do you... really love McGee?"

Abby shoved a sample back into the machine and whirled around.

"Of _course_ I do! How could you–?"

Tony shook his head. "No, I mean...do you _really_ love him? Like he must love you."

Abby looked away from Tony. "He said that he loved me more than anything, that he'd never love anyone like he loved me."

"Do you feel the same way?"

"I don't know," Abby confessed and started crying again, sinking down onto a stool. "If I really did...would I have done this to him? If I really loved him that much, I would never have...have slept with someone else. ...but he asked me why I did and I can't answer that either. I want to, but I can't. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose him, and I don't want to."

Tony shrugged helplessly.

"He hasn't kissed me once since he found out. We haven't..."

"Abby, that's too much information," Tony said quickly.

Abby laughed. "You're right. That _is_ too much information. I just want my life back."

"I hope you can, Abby. Hey, McGee forgave _me_ for some of my stupidity...and he doesn't love me."

Another teary smile.

"He loves _you_, Abby. I'm sure of that. So you just need to wait and see...and don't give up. ...and don't listen to me because I suck at giving relationship advice."

Abby hugged Tony tightly again.

"I don't want to lose him, Tony."

"I don't want you to, either, Abby."

That was all he could think of to say.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The MRI was tedious, but not nearly so nerve-wracking as waiting for the results. When Dr. Ashton came in to talk with him, Tim couldn't help but hold his breath while she told him what they'd found. She smiled.

"Congratulations, Mr. McGee. Your MRI looks good. No signs of any bleeding."

Tim sighed with abject relief. "Thank you," he said. "That's the first good news I've had in days."

Dr. Ashton looked at him curiously. "Mr. McGee, have you been feeling a lot of extra stress lately?"

Tim let out a bitter laugh. "You have no idea."

"Well, as we discussed before, your seizure is not a common result of the hematoma, although it does happen. One thing that we've found in the past is that stress levels have a definite effect on the progress of an injury, of a disease. During periods of high stress, you're more likely to have severe side effects than you are if you're relaxed. I'm telling you this because you'll likely recover faster if you can get rid of some of the stress you're feeling."

Another laugh. "Not gonna happen. It can't. Not without removing myself from my life completely. What's causing my stress affects every part of who I am. It...just can't...change. Not yet."

"Do you want to talk with someone about it?"

"No. That won't help. Not now."

"It could help."

"No," Tim said shaking his head slowly. "This is something that needs a lot more than chatting with a stranger. But thank you for being concerned."

"If it's a real problem, then it might be helpful to be able to talk to someone trained to help."

"No," Tim said firmly. "This is something we have to do ourselves."

"All right, but if you ever change your mind, I can give you some recommendations."

"Thanks, but I won't."

"Okay. What we're going to do is keep you here for the rest of today and then, provided we don't have any new problems, we'll release you Saturday morning. Does that work?"

"You sure I can't leave today?"

Dr. Ashton smiled. "Yes, I'm sure. Considering how much trouble you've had, I don't think we want to rush things this time around."

Tim sighed. "Yeah, I guess not. This has put my whole life on hold, you know? I'm just tired of sitting in here watching the world go by."

"You'll be back with the world soon enough, Mr. McGee. Don't worry about that. Just be glad that you _can_."

"I am. I am," Tim said, but there was a degree to which he did _not_ feel that lucky. There was too much going on for him to feel really excited. He just didn't like being in the hospital. He didn't like being stuck in a bed while things were so bad. Until his head cleared out, it was going to be hard to have the discussions he need to have with Abby...and that was frustrating because things couldn't get better until they'd managed to talk...which they hadn't. Not much. Not enough. At the same time, the human part of him wasn't very upset about not being able to talk about these things that still made him feel as thought his insides were being ripped out.

Dr. Ashton left him to his thoughts and Tim leaned back in the bed. He couldn't help thinking back to just over a month ago, before Abby had gone to the conference. He had been happy, unconcerned about most aspects of his life. He and Abby had found the groove of being married (groove, not rut). He had dropped her off at the airport and not thought anything about it. Sure, he'd miss her while she was gone, but it was only for a couple of days. He'd be working and she'd call and tell him all about it.

...but of course, it hadn't happened like that. He'd broken his phone and not been able to receive her call. ...and somehow that had led to her sleeping with another man. Somehow.

Sitting up once more, Tim found that he still couldn't wrap his head around it. He really needed to understand Abby's mindset, what she'd been thinking, why that had been, in her mind, a valid response to make...because he couldn't imagine loving someone and doing that to them. He and Abby had hurt each other's feelings on occasion. They'd even argued, but that was a part of marriage. That's just how things fell out occasionally. They'd always worked through it, gotten past it. ...usually, Tim had apologized.

Now, apologies just weren't enough because how could one really apologize for something like this?

_Am I deluding myself?_ Tim wondered._ Is there really any way that I can let this go?_

He didn't know, but he had to try. He couldn't fathom giving up on Abby, not when he had loved her for so long and loved her so much. The real problem is that he wasn't sure if she felt the same.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby came to see him on Friday after work, but Tim insisted that she sleep at home that night in anticipation of him getting released in the morning. Part of the reason for that was because he himself wanted to be able to put aside everything for one night. Knowing that his brain was apparently _not_ permanently damaged had taken one source of stress and made it much more tolerable. Waiting to fully recover would likely be frustrating, but since he _would_ eventually recover, that meant that he could count on becoming hale and hearty once again.

On Saturday morning, Abby was there before he even woke up. Tim smiled when he saw her. How long would this solicitous behavior last? Tim actually hoped it wouldn't last very long. If it kept on like this, it would mean that neither of them were ready to move past what had happened. She talked about what was happening at work, carefully avoiding any mention of Tony or Gibbs. She talked about Ziva a little bit and everyone else a lot more. Tim actually did appreciate that. Gibbs, especially, but Tony as well, filled him with even more hurt than Abby did.

"...and so Ducky said that he's going to have to cook for us one day because he thinks we're relying on restaurants too much for our sustenance. He really said that, too. I think he gets lonely at his house, really. With his mom gone... but he will either invite us over there or will invite himself to our place at some point; so be ready."

"I will."

"And..."

The door opened, admitting Dr. Ashton.

"Mr. McGee, are you ready to leave us?"

"Absolutely," Tim said with a smile. "I still get to go?"

"All your vitals look good. Your MRI was clear. However, there are a few last-minute instructions."

"What are they?"

"You're ready to leave, but you're, in no way, ready to follow your normal patterns. You still have some dizziness?"

"Yeah, a little. Mostly when I first stand up."

"And headaches?"

"Yes."

"Those are signs from your body telling you to take it easy. I don't want you even attempting to return to work for another two weeks. We've already scheduled the followup appointment. After two weeks, we'll do a reassessment and decide if you're ready to start back at your job...in a limited capacity, of course. Then, we'll gradually work back up to full activity. But for the next two weeks, you take it easy and don't try to do too much. Relax. Understand?"

"We understand," Abby said.

"Good. Then, you're free to go. Enjoy sleeping in your own bed tonight, Mr. McGee."

"I will. Thank you for your help."

Tim gladly got into the wheelchair and let himself be pushed out of the hospital and to Abby's car. They drove back home and Tim acceded to Abby's insistence that he sit and not do anything. All Saturday, Tim sat around. It was strange sitting around at home as opposed to at the hospital. At the hospital, he was _expected_ to sit around. If he were able to be running around, he wouldn't be at the hospital in the first place. ...but at home, he wasn't supposed to be sitting around. There were things to do, things he should be doing. ...but not right now.

Ziva had made them a dish of baked ziti and left in their house with a note. She was nowhere to be seen, but Abby called her and thanked her profusely for breaking into their house and giving them food. There was way too much of it, but they decided to see how it would save. When it came to the evening, the awkwardness descended again as the reality of what was going on in their personal lives came home to roost once more.

"What now, Tim?" Abby asked as she put the dishes in the sink.

"Well, you could wash the dishes, or you could let me help," Tim said with a small smile.

"You're not supposed to be exerting yourself."

"I'm not an invalid anymore, Abbs. I can handle washing the dishes."

"Let me. Please."

Tim sighed. "All right. Go ahead."

Abby turned open the tap and began filling the sink with soapy water. "Do you want to...talk about it...tonight?"

"No."

"When?"

"When I feel like I'm ready to deal with it better. I'm still a bit fuzzy in the head, and I'm not ready for what we might have to talk about."

"Okay," Abby said, her voice small. "What'll we do then? Do you want to go to bed now?"

"Why don't we watch a movie or something?" Tim suggested. "You can pick, just nothing very loud."

Abby smiled and nodded. She finished washing the dishes and then magnanimously allowed Tim to help dry them. After that, they watched TV for a while, Abby leaning on Tim as they sat on the couch. Tim fell asleep before they'd found something to watch, but Abby woke him up when she decided to go to bed.

They slept in the same bed...but not really together.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Sunday dawned bright and beautiful. Abby woke up first and looked at Tim as he slept. She tried to determine if he was a lot better or if he was still just okay. The sight of his white cotton pillowcases made her smile. She couldn't understand why he preferred cotton. Sure, she had slept on it a lot, but she preferred the silky red pillowcases...which he had carefully piled up on the floor on his side of the bed.

Tim took a deep breath in his sleep and tensed slightly, his eyes opening just a crack before closing again. Abby loved that tendency he had. It was as if he was trying to wake up but couldn't quite make it. He never knew he had done it when he truly did wake up. She knew because she'd asked him before...but on the days she woke up before he did, she loved to watch him sleep because he went through the same patterns almost every morning. Soon, he would shift onto his back and lay there, one arm flung above his head. He would stay in that position until he woke up. Abby sat there, cross-legged on the bed, watching Tim sleep.

His jaw was still a multi-colored healing bruise from Gibbs' fist. Right now, with his head angled just right, she could see the small black sutures from his surgery. He had lost a lot of weight from everything that had happened...and with how much weight he'd already lost intentionally, he could ill afford to lose more. She'd make sure he gained the weight back...if she had to forcefeed him. It wasn't fair that he looked so downtrodden.

Tim rolled over onto his back and flung his right arm over his head. Abby grinned to herself and continued to wait. The house was quiet. Jethro was asleep downstairs on his doggy bed, although he would wake up as soon as he heard footsteps from above...which was why Abby was sitting on the bed waiting. Even if she wasn't much of a quiet person, she found that she did enjoy these brief moments in the mornings. If she didn't think about it, she could almost pretend that everything was normal. Normal. It wasn't, but she could pretend for a while.

Tim's eyes lazily opened and wandered around before fixing on her. Abby smiled at him and he smiled back...but it wasn't his normal smile. It was that guarded smile, the one she had seen a lot when they'd first started dating again, the smile that hid what he was really feeling and only showed what he wanted to show, what he wanted to feel. That was how he was smiling at her, and Abby hated it, even though she knew she deserved it. Tim had every right to be uncertain and guarded around her. However, that didn't make her feel any better. Covering her own regret, she made her smile brighter.

"Good morning! Happy Sunday, Tim."

"Morning, Abby," he said in reply and sat up, wincing a little. Abby knew it was another headache.

"Bad?"

Tim shook his head. "No. Not bad. Just unpleasant. It's no worse than it's been the last couple of days."

"Dizzy?" Abby asked quickly.

"A little," he said. "Don't worry, Abbs. I'll be fine. I really feel a lot better than I did before. I'd never had a concussion like that before; so I didn't know what was normal. How I felt before was really different from now."

"Are you sure?"

"Promise." His smile was more genuine this time, but no less guarded. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a personal gesture he hadn't used for a long time, forever it seemed. Then, he pulled back, too quickly to be natural, and turned away from her to get out of bed. "You ready to meet the Vances tonight? I think I'm more nervous about this than I was about meeting your parents for the first time."

The tone was so deliberately casual that Abby knew there was nothing to be done but respond in kind.

"Well, my parents don't sign both our paychecks...and my parents loved you from day one."

Tim walked into the bathroom and called back.

"I seem to remember some mighty stressful grilling from your parents. Deaf or not, they sure did make themselves known, even to me."

"If they had hated you, they wouldn't have bothered to explain," Abby said. "They would've set the dog on you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Are you sure we shouldn't bring something tonight?"

"Director Vance insisted that we shouldn't."

"It feels weird not to."

"I know, but that's what he said."

"Okay. I'll go make something for breakfast. Any requests?"

"I'm not really hungry, Abbs."

"But you're too skinny, Tim! You need to put on a few pounds. You're skinnier than...than _Ziva_!"

Tim's chuckle echoed out of the bathroom.

"Okay. You win. Make breakfast."

"What do you want?"

"You can choose."

"Waffles? I won't mess those up."

Another chuckle. "Works for me. Have at it. I'll take Jethro out for a walk, let him do his thing and then we can eat."

"Don't you dare run anywhere yet, Tim," Abby said, feeling worried.

"On my honor. No running. I'll just walk. Jethro will be very solicitous of me and let me go slow. I've been sitting around too much, Abbs. I need to get out and walk a bit."

"Okay, okay." Abby didn't like it, but she recognized Tim's need. It was coming out in his voice and she could back down if needed. "You'd better eat the waffles I make, then."

"I will." Tim came out of the bathroom and together, as usual, they made the bed, ending, as always, with Tim stacking the red satin pillows on top of his white cotton ones, obscuring them from view.

Then, he went down. Jethro was awake as usual and Tim took him out while Abby went into the kitchen to make breakfast. It wasn't even eight yet. Both of them were early risers by force of habit. In fact, Tim didn't usually sleep as long as he had this morning...something that could be chalked up to his need for recovery still.

Abby was nervous about going to the Vances' as well. This was going to be strange, no matter what, but Tim was so happy about having someone act like his friend that she couldn't have said no. No matter what. Maybe this would help.

She hoped it would.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Gosh, how many people are coming?" Jared asked, very interested in the number of pots and pans and dishes on the stove and in the oven.

"Only two," Jackie said with a smile.

"Why so much food, then?"

"Are you complaining?" she asked.

"Is it..._good_?"

"Of course."

"What is it, then?"

"I've got a roast in the oven, potatoes there...and corn...and gravy here. What do you want in the salad?"

"I don't like salad."

"That's not what I asked," Jackie said. "I asked what you wanted to have in it."

"Bacon!"

"We have bacon bits you can put on top."

"Peppers?"

"Green or red?"

"Yellow."

Jackie grimaced. "Are you just trying to be difficult, Jared?"

"No. I like yellow better."

"We don't have any yellow. How about orange?"

"Fine. I guess that's okay."

"Good. Get your sister and tell her it's her turn to set the table and you can start making the salad."

"Mo-om! That's not fair!"

"Would you rather set the table?"

"Are we using the nice stuff?"

"Yes. We're going to have guests."

"Then, no. I'll break them."

"Then, get your sister."

"What about Dad?"

"He's on the phone in his office. He'll be done soon."

"It's Sunday!" Jared whined.

"I know. That's why he's at home rather than at work. He'll be done soon. Go get Kayla."

Jared gave a long-suffering sigh but went to get his sister. Jackie smiled at his thumping and then his shouting in an effort to make Kayla as miserable as he thought _he_ was. Kayla's annoyed protestations inevitably followed, but then both were thumping down the stairs, expressing their discontent through their heavy tread.

"I take it you've put our children to work?"

Jackie turned and smiled as Leon came into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"All finished?"

He sighed. "Yes, but only after some severe arm-twisting. I'm okay with Sunday emergencies when they come, but this was _not_ an emergency. Idiot politicians. Why did I take this job again?"

Jackie bent over to look in the oven. "I believe you told me that it was a wonderful opportunity, that you were the best qualified for the job and that you would be a fool if you passed up the chance to have the position, to get a better salary...and that living in DC would be a great chance for the kids to learn about their nation's history."

"Did I really say all that?"

"I think so."

"Well, next time I claim that a rise in position is a great opportunity, smack me upside the head."

"Will do," Jackie said as she checked the roast.

"Done?"

"Will be in a few minutes. Right on time."

"Good."

Jackie hadn't yet turned around, but then she felt his arms around her waist, hugging her gently.

"I'm lucky, you know that?" he said softly in her ear.

"Why? Did you win the lottery?"

"Nope. I got you."

Jackie turned around. "You're not too shabby yourself."

"I'm glad you think so." He kissed her on the cheek and then looked over her shoulder. "What do you need me to do?"

Jackie noticed that the thumping had stopped and not resulted in the appearance of Jared and Kayla. "Get your children to do their tasks."

"Yes, ma'am." He let her go and turned toward the hall. "Jared! Kayla! In here on the double!"

The shout got them moving finally. The two kids came into the kitchen looking resentful.

"Now, what did your mother ask you to do, Jared?"

"Make the salad."

"Kayla?"

"Set the table...but that's not fair! I set the table yesterday, and we have to use all the nice stuff tonight and that means even _more_ plates. Plus, we have people coming. So that's even _more_ stuff! That's so not fair that Jared just has to make the salad and..."

Kayla stopped talking at Leon's look.

"Thank you," he said. "Jared, you know where everything is. Go for it."

"Yes, Dad." He stuck out his tongue at Kayla who bristled.

"Hey!" Jackie said instantly. "None of that. Get going."

"Kayla, get the plates. I'll get the glasses and help you," Leon said.

"Use a tablecloth," Jackie added.

"...and get a tablecloth first," Leon continued with a wink at Kayla who giggled and got on with her task with less overt annoyance.

During one moment that everyone was in the kitchen, Jackie got their attention.

"Okay, guys, there's one thing you need to be aware of."

"What?" Kayla asked, a handful of knives in her hand.

"First, Tim and Abby haven't ever been here before; so you need to make them feel welcome. Second, Tim was injured a couple of weeks ago and isn't going to be looking or feeling his best. Don't tire him out. And last, we're probably going to be having a serious conversation after dinner and it's not for you guys to hear. That means upstairs after everything is cleaned up. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom," Jared and Kayla said together.

"Good. Then, you may continue working."

Leon laughed and ushered Kayla back into the dining room.

Jackie noticed that even Jared was less annoyed when he got to decide how much of what to put into the salad he professed not to like. By the time the doorbell rang at quarter after six, everything was more or less ready, just waiting for their guests. Jackie headed for the door and Leon joined her. He murmured in her ear as they walked.

"I wonder just what Mrs. McGee will be wearing this evening. Her work attire is...unique."

Jackie laughed. "I hope she doesn't mind the kids staring at her, then."

"I'm sure she won't." Then, he went serious for a moment. "I haven't seen Agent McGee since last week. He still looked pretty shaky then. And I'm fairly certain, he _wouldn't_ appreciate the scrutiny."

"I'll keep that in mind. _You_ had better remember to stop using their titles and start using their names," Jackie said and opened the door...and was glad that Leon had warned her. She'd only met Tim once and that was in the process of an investigation, but she could see that he really wasn't at his best, although he smiled at her. ...and she might have detected understanding in his eyes, as if he was aware of how he looked and the reaction she wasn't expressing.

...and Abby was Goth, but nicely dressed for all that. Her hair was in pigtails, she had quite a few visible tattoos, but her dress, although black and short, was modest...and certainly matched her tall black boots and her black nail polish. Jackie could see what her husband meant but she saw also that Abby was a little nervous and was probably half-afraid of a not-so-enjoyable evening.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Vance," Tim said awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you," Abby said.

"It's Jackie, Tim," Jackie said. "And Abby, it's lovely to meet you, too, especially after all that I've heard of you."

She was surprised at a flash of wariness before a smile graced Abby's lips.

"Not too bad, I hope?"

"Oh, no. Leon definitely mentioned your fashion choices, but nothing bad."

Abby laughed...and sounded much too relieved about it. Tim's reaction was no less interesting since he made absolutely _no_ reaction to Abby's unnecessary worry. There was definitely some sort of tension going on that wouldn't go away with time alone. The awkwardness this young married couple obviously felt was sad, and Jackie was determined to try and help if she could.

"Tim," Leon said with a smile. "Come on in."

"Director," Tim said.

Jackie laughed. "His name is Leon, Tim. He's only the Director at NCIS. Not in this house."

Tim flushed, bringing some welcome color to his cheeks and nodded.

"L-Leon," he said.

"Good. Now, come on in and meet our monsters," Leon said.

"Monsters?" Abby asked, relaxing visibly, although Tim still seemed a bit stiff.

"Otherwise known as our children," Jackie said. "Jared! Kayla!"

Jared and Kayla came out to meet Abby and Tim as they removed their jackets. Both were visibly fascinated. ...and then did just what Jackie had hoped they _wouldn't _do. They expressed their fascination.

Kayla cocked her head to the side and looked at Abby. "You're Abby?"

"That's me. You're Kayla."

"Yep. Didn't it hurt to get all those tattoos? What if they'd poked a hole in your veins doing the spider web?"

Leon quickly turned a laugh into a cough, but Jackie rolled her eyes.

"Kayla!"

"I was just asking."

"It does hurt a bit, but it stops after a while. ...and I'm very careful about the people I have give me tattoos. You can't go to just anyone. Some people might just do that."

Meanwhile, Jared was more interested in Tim, not yet at the age where girls were fascinating.

"Do you box, Tim?"

Tim looked at him quizzically. "No. Why?"

"Who hit you, then?"

"Jared!" Jackie said, mortified.

The look in Tim's eyes told her that the question hurt, not because of the question but because of the memory of the answer. Abby also tensed, looking worriedly at Tim. All that, of course, passed Jared by.

"You said we were supposed to make them feel welcome!" Jared protested. "You said that we were...supposed to express our interest in their lives!" He was parroting the words she'd said earlier that day back at her. "I was being interested!"

...but to Jackie's relief, that seemed to help. Tim relaxed and laughed, the hurt vanishing as if it had never been.

"It was a mistake, Jared."

"Wow. For you or the other guy?"

"For both of us, I think," Tim said, and the hurt could be seen again.

"Dad got me some boxing gloves. You want to try them?"

Tim smiled again. "I don't think that would help me too much, Jared, but thanks."

"Well, I think we should eat before my children manage to embarrass me anymore than they already have."

"I'll take your jackets," Leon said, "and Jared will get his salad."

"Dad!" Jared complained.

"Go. Kayla, help carry out the food, too."

"Do you want us to help?" Abby asked, stepping forward.

"No. You two go into the dining room and have a seat," Jackie said firmly. "It's right through that door."

Tim and Abby both meekly followed instructions and sat down at the table. It took them about halfway through dinner to really relax and start to chat. It took that long for Tim to forget that it wasn't Director Vance he was speaking to at the moment but Leon. Abby relaxed more quickly but, probably because of other things, didn't really loosen up for a bit longer. Jared and Kayla showed more sense than they had upon meeting Tim and Abby and that helped things become more lively.

Jackie noticed, however, that even if they had relaxed in regard to their hosts, Tim and Abby were still very awkward with each other. Awkward and almost formal. Abby's actions bordered on veiled desperation while Tim's actions were pulling back from his wife. Even when he smiled at Abby, it was clear to Jackie that he wasn't really comfortable doing so. There was something _very_ serious going on between them.

After dessert, Jackie directed them into the living room. She had planned on helping Jared and Kayla with the dishes but Leon gestured for her to join Tim and Abby while he got them working. Jackie kissed him on the cheek in thanks and noticed a wistful expression on Tim's face, one that was quickly suppressed when he saw that she was noticing. She raised her eyebrows at him and he just shrugged silently before standing to pull Abby's chair out in a gentlemanly but overly careful fashion.

In the living room, she sat and talked with them about various topics, including how long she and Leon had been married, how she liked DC. There wasn't much substance to it, but Jackie enjoyed getting to know these two employees of NCIS, two people who somehow had fallen in love, even though they looked like they came from different planets.

Quick thumping up the stairs signaled the completion of the kitchen cleanup, and Leon came in to sit beside Jackie. She smiled as he sat down and put an easy arm around her.

"So...I hope you enjoyed yourselves," Leon said.

"We did, Leon. We really did," Abby said. "It was nice of you to invite us over."

Tim nodded, his thanks less effusive but no less meant. In fact, it seemed as though he meant it even more than Abby did.

"Yes. Thank you both," he said simply.

"It was our pleasure," Jackie said, sincerely. "It's been very nice to get to know you. Now..._I_ can tell, even if others can't, that you're having some troubles between you. That true?"

Tim and Abby shared a look. It was a long look and, without a single word being said, an entire conversation occurred. It ended with Tim making a _go ahead_ gesture to Abby and Abby nodding in agreement. She looked at Jackie and Leon.

"Yeah. We are. We have been for a few weeks now. We were going to try and get things more worked out but after Gi-...I mean, after what happened to Tim, we had to wait."

"I'm feeling better now," Tim said and then smiled ruefully, "even if I don't look like it at the moment."

"Do you want to talk to us about it?" Leon asked. "We're not shrinks and we don't claim to be perfect, but we're more than willing to help out where we can."

"I don't know if...if this is the kind of thing you can help with," Tim said. "I doubt you've had this problem."

"Maybe not," Jackie said, "but we _have_ been married for quite a few years. No marriage is perfect and we all have times when we want to throw in the towel and give up, but we've stuck it out so far...and I don't think it's turned out too badly." She grinned at Leon who smiled back.

"There's no obligation," he said. "You have the choice and if you do choose to talk with us, know that nothing you tell us will get shared anywhere else."

Tim and Abby looked at each other again, holding another silent conversation. This one took longer...and Abby took Tim's hand and then let it go quickly as she looked away from him and at the Vances.

"Tim...I..." she stopped. "You're going to think this is too much information."

Tim was staying pretty quiet, but his eyes and his tension as he sat beside Abby spoke volumes. Abby looked at him, but he didn't meet her gaze this time. She looked back at Jackie and Leon.

"I cheated on Tim. About a month ago," Abby finally said and then looked down at her lap.

Jackie looked at the distraught pair sitting across from her and the caution, the desperation, the fear, the anxiety. It all made sense. Tim had been betrayed and his wife had been the betrayer. She looked at Leon and saw his surprise. It was muted, but neither Tim nor Abby was looking at him; so that didn't matter too much. Jackie mutely asked him what to say. His response was to shake his head. He didn't know either. Jackie took a deep breath, wanting to say something that would help but not sure that anything would at this point.

"You're right, Tim. We haven't had that problem. Thank goodness...but maybe we can still help, even a little. If you'd like to talk with us more, we're totally willing to try."

"We haven't really had much of a chance to talk, not with everything that happened...with Gibbs," Tim said softly, still not meeting anyone's gaze. He wasn't looking down in shame, like Abby was. He was staring at a spot on the wall away from everyone else. No eye contact. He was ashamed as well. What else he felt wasn't clear. What Jackie guessed was that he was hiding how he felt from everyone, suppressing his own emotions in an effort to make them go away.

"What _did_ happen?" Jackie asked.

"He thought Tim was abusing me," Abby said, sounding absolutely wretched about it.

"Oh." What a complication to add to an already painful and complicated period.

Leon leaned forward. "You do need to talk," he said. "Fights happen in a marriage, and I know this isn't anything like that, but you can't just hide it away and pretend it didn't happen. It will come back if you don't deal with it. ...and when it's serious...like this is..." Leon looked at Jackie for a minute, obviously worried about what he was saying. "...it _could_ destroy your marriage. I'm guessing, since you're still together, that you're trying to avoid that result."

"Yes," Abby said instantly.

Tim said nothing, and Abby noticed.

"Tim?" she said timidly, reaching out to touch his hand again. "Tim?"

"We're trying," he whispered but still wouldn't look at anyone.

"Part of that trying means talking it out. If that's too hard for you to do by yourselves, you could try seeing some sort of marriage counselor, but..." and here Leon smiled a little at Jackie. "...I can tell you that when Jackie and I saw one, the biggest thing he told us was that we needed to learn to listen to each other and trust each other enough to say what we really thought rather than tiptoe around the issues that bothered us."

Jackie nodded. "It seems obvious, but it really is true. We could have saved quite a bit of money if we had realized that on our own. ...but it might be that all this is too much just for talking to help."

Jackie looked at the two on the couch and then at her husband. Leon, being the perceptive man he generally was, nodded in understanding and stood.

"Hey, Tim. Come on out to the patio." He didn't say any more than that.

Tim finally looked at him and then at Abby before nodding and standing. He followed Leon out of the living room and Jackie took his vacated spot on the couch.

"Scared, are you?" she asked, not pushing, just letting Abby know that she could confide in her if she wanted to..

Instantly, Abby broke down into tears and flung her arms around Jackie, sobbing. Jackie held her and let her cry.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

"Have a seat, Tim," Leon said, pointing to one of the patio chairs.

Tim sat down, not saying a word. Leon wasn't sure how exactly to go about this but in the end, he decided to stay quiet and let Tim choose whether or not to speak. He heard some crying from inside and closed the doors before sitting down himself.

It was silent on the patio for about ten minutes and then Tim leaned forward, hiding his head in his hands.

"I don't know what to do," he said, his voice muffled by his current position.

"I don't blame you, Tim," Leon said, feeling nothing but pity for him. "This is a hard thing to deal with, I'm sure...and I'm glad I don't know how it feels."

"What do I do?" Tim asked, not looking up, not making eye contact. "My wife slept with another man. People I thought were friends, people I thought respected and trusted me...they thought I...I could abuse my wife. What do I do?"

Leon scooted his chair closer.

"I don't know, Tim. To be honest, I don't have a clue. What do _you_ think?"

"I keep trying...but what am I supposed to do? How can I trust...how can...?" Tim lifted his head and looked Leon in the eye. "I love her. I love Abby. I love her so much. It's stupid, but even now I do, even with what she's done...but I would never...and I... How can I trust her again? I would...would _never_ do something like this to Abby. How could she–?"

Tim looked down again and then out across the yard, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Leon waited, sensing that there was more Tim had to say. Getting him to _say_ these things, to admit to them, was probably as important as getting him to talk openly to Abby.

"I didn't...decide I wanted to marry Abby blindly. I know what Abby's like. I've always known. You weren't here when we started dating the first time, but it was...it ended...on Abby's side mostly because we weren't coming at our relationship in the same way. But we got to be friends and we were for years. Just friends...even though we sometimes got jealous of each other."

Again, Tim fell silent. Leon knew that this wasn't easy for Tim to say. He knew that it would be hard to expose so much of his private life to public scrutiny, even if it was a public of one. Tim was a private person when it came to the things he really treasured. The things that mattered to him the most were the things he didn't want to share with just anybody.

"And I thought I'd moved on. I had other girlfriends...all disasters in various ways. The last one was Amanda. You know...the mercenary who was going to kill me." Tim laughed. "I think that would have hurt less than this. It wouldn't have lasted as long."

Leon remembered when that had happened and how shocked Tim had been by what had happened. Gibbs had even mentioned to him later that he wanted to keep a closer eye on Tim for a few days, make sure he was over it. He had gone on, but now Leon wondered if he ever _had_ really been over it, or if it had been like this and he hid his stronger emotions in self-defense.

"But I still loved her. I just didn't know if she felt the same way. So I asked her out. Did you know that she said no at first? It hurt. It really did, but I just accepted it. I figured that was it and I wasn't going to turn it into the end of the world again. I never told anyone about it. That was the end of my trying and I could just be friends. ...and I wouldn't have pushed again. Never. I was done. I really was. ...but Abby came to me."

Again, Tim stopped talking. He wouldn't look at Leon, and he was clearly wrestling with his own reticence to talk. Leon just waited.

"We started dating again. Abby...the way she always does, threw herself into it completely. I was more careful. I didn't want to...let myself fall too far again, not if she wasn't really feeling the same way. ...but it kept going...and I trusted her again. ...and I could let myself love her again. ...and everything was perfect. I was happy. I thought Abby was happy. We got married, bought a house. We were happy! ...or maybe we weren't. Maybe only I was happy. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe..." Tim sighed and looked at the ground. "I don't know. I just don't know!"

More silence as Tim shook his head at the ground.

"If she didn't love me anymore, if she didn't want to be married...all she had to do was say so! It would have hurt...but not as much as this. I wouldn't have fought her over it. I want her to be happy! She's my wife. I've known her for years before we were married. ...but she says that she loves me. She says it every day, but if she really did...would she have done this? I want to believe that she loves me. I _want_ to, but I don't know if I can because..."

"...because if you believe her, then you have to find some way to make sense of what she did," Leon said, finally speaking.

"She says she doesn't know why. ...but if she doesn't understand herself...how can I trust that it won't happen again?"

Tim stood up abruptly and walked a few steps into the backyard. Then, he stopped and turned around to look at Leon. He maintained eye contact for a few seconds but then turned away again. When he spoke, it was toward the yard.

"I love her, Leon. I really love her. I would have done anything she asked. Anything. I would even have let her go if it would have made her happier. I would do anything for her now...almost. I can't..." He stopped talking.

Leon strongly suspected he was crying. After a few seconds, he got up and walked over to where Tim was standing, facing the setting sun, hands clenched into fists by his sides. Tears glistened on his cheeks. Leon hesitated for a moment and then put his hand on Tim's shoulder. Tim's head dropped as he stopped trying to hide the tears.

"Why did all this happen?" he asked. "Why?"

The hand turned into a rather awkward one-armed hug. Leon didn't bother to say anything. He knew there was nothing he really could say to make this right. Tim just needed to have someone listening to him. Besides, being silent gave him the chance to try and think of something that might help.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Back inside the house, Abby was sobbing in Jackie's arms.

"I almost wish he would yell at me," she whimpered. "He just looks at me sometimes...and it's like I stabbed him or something. He looks so hurt. I don't know who hurt him more: me or Gibbs. Probably me. I think he would have preferred if I _had_ just hit him. I wish that was all I had done. ...and he keeps asking me why. Even when he doesn't actually say the words, it's in his eyes. He wants to know why. ...and I can't tell him! I don't know!"

"You don't know?" Jackie repeated.

"No! I don't!"

Jackie let Abby go and looked at her kindly. "Abby, I hate to say it, but that can't be true."

"What do you mean? It _is_!"

Jackie kept her voice gentle but firm. "Unless you were afflicted with amnesia and can't remember what happened, it's impossible. You must know what you were thinking."

Abby was silent...well, almost silent. She was sniffling too much to be completely silent.

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but it's true."

"I don't want to lose him, Jackie. I love him...but I don't think he believes that anymore. I don't...it's not his fault, but I wish he would, because I do. I really do. I don't want anyone else."

"Have you told him that?"

"Yes!"

"Have you talked to him about what happened?"

"No. Not much anyway. The whole thing with Gibbs...and he's been saying that he's not ready to talk about it."

"Maybe you should try taking the initiative, then."

"...but he's the one who got hurt! He should choose when we talk about it! I don't want to force him to do something he doesn't want to do!"

"Only to a certain extent. If you take the bull by the horns, then it will do more than saying 'I love you' ever could. You need to do your part. Tim can't make all the decisions."

"But...But he's...I don't know. I just don't know what to do." She sniffled again. "I don't usually cry so much. Only about serious things."

"Don't you think this qualifies?" Jackie asked, mildly.

"Of course! I just..." Abby looked at herself and then at Jackie. "I'm not the kind of person who does this! I'm not! I'm a nice person. I love Tim...and you don't hurt the people you love. I don't know why I did and..."

"Actually, Abby, I've found that the people you sometimes hurt the most _are_ the people you love the most."

"That's all screwed up."

"Yes. It is. People can be that way."

Abby smiled. "Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I can do? Anything that can...make things right again?"

Jackie shook Abby gently. "I'm not the one you need to ask, Abby. Have you asked Tim that question?"

Abby was quiet for a few seconds, clearly trying to think about it.

"I must have."

"Did you?"

"I...I guess not."

"Maybe you should try that."

Abby nodded eagerly. "I will! I will!"

Jackie wanted to shake her head. Abby was like a child sometimes. She wondered if that had been a lifelong trait or one cultivated because it worked. Nothing was going to be easy for these two. It was going to be hard and it was going to take a long time. That was life and nothing could change it. She hoped that the two of them would talk to each other. Really talk, but there was no guarantee of that, even with Abby's newfound desire to do everything right. She stood up.

"Let me go and check on the boys, see how things are going."

Abby nodded and stayed where she was, wiping her eyes.

Jackie headed outside and was moderately surprised to see Leon with an arm around Tim, the two men standing in the middle of the yard, neither speaking. That last part wasn't a surprise. She'd been surprised when Leon had decided to pull Tim outside and talk to him in private, but she wasn't surprised by the silence now. Diplomatically, she cleared her throat.

Leon looked back at her and smiled. Tim didn't turn around and Leon said something quietly to him. Whatever it was Tim agreed to it and stayed in place, facing away from the house while Leon walked back to Jackie.

"How is he?" Jackie asked, almost in a whisper.

"He was crying and he's a bit embarrassed by it, I think. I said he could take his time."

"Crying all around then, although Abby isn't embarrassed by it."

Leon smiled. "It takes a lot to embarrass Abby."

"Do you want to give them recommendations of people they can talk to?"

Leon looked back at Tim who was still standing away from them. He shook his head.

"No. Not at this point. Let them try and talk it out themselves. That will probably do a lot more than anyone else could do for them."

"All right. What do you think?"

Leon understood what she was really asking and he just shrugged as Tim finally turned around and walked back to them. His eyes were still a little red, but he made a believable attempt at a smile.

"I'm...still not back to full form," he said. "I'm kind of tired. Thanks for inviting us over, but I think I need to go home."

"Of course," Jackie said. "You still look a bit pale."

"I always look a bit pale," Tim said with a smile.

Jackie chuckled. "Well, let me foist some leftovers off on you and Abby."

"Oh, that's not necessary."

"Of course it is. Do you think I want us eating this stuff for the next week? I've got plenty of tupperware and you can bring it back the next time you join us for dinner."

Tim was clearly not willing to argue about it. He nodded and followed Jackie into the kitchen.

"Abby, come on in here and help your husband haul some food away."

Abby came in and also tried to protest but, like Tim, conceded in the face of Jackie's kind insistence. When the couple finally left, they had food enough for at least three days and once the door closed, Jackie sighed.

"How did those two get together, Leon?" she asked. "I know people say that opposites attract, but that's not what this is."

Leon shrugged again as they headed back to the living room.

"I can't tell you for sure, Jackie."

"What _can_ you say then?" she asked as they sat down together.

"Tim loves Abby," he said simply. "But he only let himself love her when he was sure that she loved him. Her feelings came first."

"They can't go on like that."

"I know. Maybe they can both change."

"Maybe."

"For their sake, I hope they can."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

And so life went on. Tim and Abby ended up not having to cook for themselves for at least a week. Ziva's casserole and leftovers from the Vances gave them plenty of food to heat up at night. The first day that Abby ran into Vance at work, she looked flustered but he had simply smiled and nodded to her, indicating that he was back in his position as Director and she was, again, "Mrs. McGee" rather than Abby. It made Abby very relieved and the few moments that they ran into each other later on were devoid of the tension that might have been present otherwise.

Work was easier than home. Saying that she wanted to do everything right didn't mean that Abby was ready to face the difficulty involved in talking the problems she and Tim were facing. Abby went to work in the mornings and then came back in the evenings and they didn't really talk. They _talked_ but not about what they needed to talk about. Abby told herself that Tim deserved some recovery time before they got into it again. It was only right.

The end result was Tim being alone. He was alone all day and then when Abby came home in the evening, there was a barrier of sorts between them. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but it did give him some time to think and maybe that was a good thing. The things he'd said to Vance went over and over in his mind. It didn't seem fair that it was only after nearly a month that he was able to start thinking about the event that had screwed up so much of his life. ...and as Abby started avoiding serious conversations in the evenings, Tim began to feel frustrated.

Then, there were those on the outside, watching, as it were, from the outside, feeling the effects of all that had happened to the McGees...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky stepped off the elevator and saw Tony and Ziva diligently working at their desks. Vance was planning on letting them back out into the field, working in tandem with Lovitz' team in the next few days, but they were still working through old case files for the moment. Boring but necessary work. ...and work that did not require working through the lunch hour.

"Good afternoon," Ducky said into the silence.

Tony looked up and smiled.

"Ducky, are you here to save us from paperwork?"

"In a manner of speaking. I was wondering if the two of you would allow me to treat you for lunch?"

"That would be wonderful, Ducky," Ziva said, setting aside her files with no hesitation.

"Are you buying?" Tony asked.

"My pleasure," Ducky said with a slight bow.

"Then, I'm all in."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked around the house. He had (very slowly) managed to clean a few rooms and do the laundry, but he was tired now...and bored out of his skull. This wasn't the life he had signed up for. ...and he wasn't happy with it. Here he was, stuck at home, not because he didn't have a job but because he was still recovering from an injury. An injury acquired _not_ on the job but because the man he had respected more than anyone else besides his father had attacked him.

A minor pain flashed inside his head and he winced, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes.

"This sucks," he said aloud...and even to his own ears, his voice sounded hurt and bitter.

There was a knock on his door that pulled him from his dour thoughts.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby stood outside the door to Gibbs' house. She wasn't excited about this, but she couldn't bear staying angry at Gibbs when so much else in her life was difficult enough. Fixing things with Tim would take a lot of time...but if she could talk to Gibbs, she knew she wouldn't be able to stay mad at him. Staying mad at Gibbs was too hard.

She inhaled deeply and then turned the knob.

"Gibbs! I need to talk to you!" she called.

No response.

"Gibbs! I know you're here! I tracked your phone before I left!"

She walked further into the house and hesitated. Basement? That's where he usually was...but this wasn't a usual situation.

"Gibbs?"

"What, Abby?" The dull question did not come from the basement.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"All right, Ducky, what's the occasion?" Tony asked about halfway through lunch.

Ducky gave him an innocent smile.

"Tony is right," Ziva said. "You have not taken us to lunch for many weeks. What made you wish to do it now?"

"Very well. I confess that I did have a reason for asking you to accompany me."

"This is about McGee, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Tony and Ziva both became more serious.

"He's all right, isn't he?"

"Physically, he is healing, although when I last spoke to him, he was feeling...impatient and a bit surly. His convalescence is wearing on him."

"Do you want us to visit him more?" Ziva asked.

"Not if it makes you uncomfortable to do so. No, I was thinking more of the future when he returns to work here."

"He's going to?" Tony asked, a little surprised. "I would have thought he'd give up on working with us. I mean, even Gibbs is coming back eventually. It'll be the same people as before!"

"Same people. But Timothy himself is going to be much different, and I wanted to prepare you for what you may find in him when he does return."

"What do you mean?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim walked to the door and opened it, only to blink in surprise.

"Hi, Tim. I found myself in Silver Spring. So I called Leon and bullied him into giving me your address."

Tim's mouth opened briefly and then closed.

"Can I come in or are you busy?"

"I'm not busy. Hi, Jackie...Come on in." He stepped aside and allowed Jackie to walk into his house.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby walked into the living room and saw Gibbs sitting at his computer. It was off, but he was staring at the screen.

"What are you doing, Gibbs? Did you forget how to turn it on?"

Gibbs looked at her and said nothing, returning his gaze to his reflection in the monitor. Abby bit her lip for a minute and then approached him, almost tentatively.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Gibbs didn't look away from the blank monitor. "Yeah, Abbs. Something is wrong."

"What?"

"You tell me. When did I forget one of the members of my own team?"

"Never. You've always known the members of your team. You have a good memory."

"No, when did I forget that I had actual people, not just things that did what I told them? Did you know that I didn't _ask_ McGee to set up this computer for me? I _told_ him to do it...and I never even thanked him for it."

"Why not?" Abby asked, remembering some of her irritation.

"Didn't think I needed to."

"But you always thank _me_, Gibbs. Even when it's at work and it's my job. Why not thank Tim for doing you a favor?"

"Didn't think I needed to."

"But _why_, Gibbs?" Abby asked, now more distressed. "Tim thinks you don't care about him at all! He's decided that he's not a part of the team in the way the rest of us are! He's decided that he's the outsider and instead of trying to be a part, he's just going to accept that he's the outsider and that's wrong! It's wrong that he feels that way. You don't really think of him like that, do you? You can't think of him like that. He's been a part of NCIS for almost nine years! We've been married for two years! You can't still think of Tim like that! You were at our wedding! Please, Gibbs, tell me that you don't think of Tim like that so I can tell him that he made a mistake!"

Silence.

"Please, Gibbs."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky set down his fork and looked at two of them in turn. "I have spoken with Abigail and she told me that Timothy, while he has every intention of returning to his former position, has _no_ intention of even attempting to repair the lost friendships. He intends to come back to NCIS as an employee and no more than that. He does not wish to return to the previous camaraderie because he feels now that there is no point in trying to, as he sees it, insinuate himself into a group that has no use for him as a person."

"What?" Ziva asked, appalled. "It is not true, Ducky! It is a mistake!"

"He thinks that our being friends before was a lie?" Tony asked.

"Yes. It is the only explanation that he feels explains the actions of the MCRT with regards to Abigail. He cannot understand your actions and beliefs in any other way."

"But...but..." Tony sputtered for a second. "...but I _talked_ to him, Ducky. I apologized. I meant it, too! He...He was still upset and he said he was hurt still, but he even forgave me for telling Gibbs. He said that he couldn't forgive me yet for believing that about him...but I thought..."

"That it would only take time?" Ducky asked.

"Yeah. I figured it would be hard and I'd have to fix some things, but...but it wouldn't be...forever."

"I have always valued McGee as a friend," Ziva said. "Does he include me in this as well?"

"I'm afraid that Abigail wasn't specific. Most of his feeling are, as you might guess, about Jethro, but I would not be surprised if, in the interests of making it more simple, he has decided that this extends to all his coworkers. Don't forget that he still is dealing with what Abigail did as well. He has been betrayed by those he thought closest to him and that means that either he was mistaken in how close the bonds were or else he has to accept that someone he thought was a friend could betray him as you did, Anthony."

"Or stay silent and do nothing like I did," Ziva said softly.

"Perhaps."

"Isn't there anything we can do to...to change his mind? Convince him that it's not true?" Tony asked.

"To be honest, I have no idea. I myself have not spoken to Timothy about this, but I do know that his mind currently cannot grasp the concept of people who say they are friends and then turn around and believe the worst of him. Perhaps with time, his feelings will mellow, but do not expect a return of the same relationship you had with him before. He will likely seem very cold toward you all."

"Should we avoid him, then?" Ziva asked.

"No. I don't believe you should. I think you should try to show him by your behavior how much you value him...but do _not_ make it into more than you do feel. He will be skeptical of _any_ show of kindness. He trusts you to do your work well and to defend him in the field, but he does not trust you to be friends."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"How are things going?" Jackie asked as Tim led her into the kitchen to have a seat.

"They're going," he said, in a noncommittal tone.

"In other words, they're going badly?"

"They're..." Tim sighed. "They're not really going at all. I'm stuck at home...alone pretty much all day. Abby comes home and we talk about nothing of importance. I've tried to bring it up once or twice but it never turns into anything substantial. It's always...Abby just apologizing. ...and, Jackie...the apologies...they just don't mean anything to me. I know she's sorry. She's said so from the beginning, but..." Tim stood up from the table walked to the counter. "Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry? It's around lunchtime. I'm not very hungry myself right now, but..."

"Tim, I'm fine. Come and talk to me."

Tim walked back and sank down onto the chair. He looked Jackie in the eye for a moment and dropped his head to the table, pillowing it in his arms.

"Nothing's going right, Jackie. Nothing. I feel like I'm living in a different world from everyone else...like...I'm not a part of anything because I'm just here. The worst of it is that I don't feel like I _can_ do much yet. I'm at least thinking clearly again, but I'm...I still get tired easily and I have headaches...and I just...have no energy to deal with all this...and I can't do it by myself. I can't do it if Abby won't...and if she doesn't want to...then what am I doing all this for? What's the point?"

Jackie put her hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed it tightly.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Gibbs!" Abby demanded. "You can't be this dumb! You can't be like this! It's like we're stuck in the _Twilight Zone_ and you aren't acting like you!"

Gibbs slammed his hand on the computer desk and then looked at her.

"Wake up, Abby! I _am_ acting like me. This is what I have done for the entire time that McGee has been on the team! He gets rare pats on the head and that's it. He's never been like you or like Tony or like Ziva! ...and I've let it be that way. You've always come first. He's always come last. You know it and I know it. Everyone knows it."

Abby winced and looked away.

"What I did was wrong, but you can't pretend that it's nothing like what I've done before. You were the one foolish enough to open the door and let that stalker in, but McGee is who I punished for it. McGee gets the glare. You get the tolerant smile or roll of the eyes. Do you understand, Abby? That's the way it's always been. Why should McGee expect anything else? I'm surprised he's tried."

"What are you saying, Gibbs? Are you saying that it's all okay because it's how it's always been?"

"No, I'm saying that I'm only now seeing that it's always been this way and that when it comes to personal things McGee is almost always an afterthought. It's wrong, but it's the way things have always been." Gibbs stood up and walked away from Abby, to the back door. "...and I've been sitting here for the last two days trying to figure out how I can make up for _eight years_ of thoughtlessness...and I don't see how it's possible."

"But...Gibbs...you're supposed to make everything all right again. That's what you do!"

Gibbs sighed and looked at her. "I'm in McGee's debt so far that I can't see how to get out of it. I could be in prison right now, Abby. I could be on trial for assault. I could be serving time and if that happened, I'd be fired from NCIS. ...and it's only because of McGee that I'm not. You tell me how I'm supposed to make things right now."

Tears welled up in Abby's eyes. "But..."

"Abby, I can't make things better. I can't make them right. You're asking the wrong person." He turned away from her once more. "You can let yourself out. You don't want to be late getting back to NCIS."

Abby started to cry and ran out of the house.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Jackie didn't stay very long, and she didn't have any answers to Tim's dilemma, but she leant a sympathetic ear and let Tim release some of his tension. Then, she left him home and called Vance.

"_Jackie? What's up?"_

Jackie started the car and pulled away.

"Leon, it's not going well."

"_Bad?"_

"You have no idea. Tim's...frustrated and edging toward hopeless. Is there anything we can do?"

"_I don't know, Jackie. I'm far from being an expert about this kind of thing."_

"Could you suggest that Abby take some time off to deal with it?"

"_Not as the Director. That's getting into iffy territory as far as supervisor/subordinate relations."_

"I don't know what's going to happen if they can't get down to it."

"_I don't know, either, Jackie, but there's only so much we can do."_

"I know. I just hate to see them so miserable."

"_We'll talk about it tonight, all right?"_

"Okay. Love you."

"_I love you, too. Bye."_

Jackie hung up and stared out the windshield. This story was swiftly on its way to becoming a tragedy and she didn't want that to happen.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Vance leaned against the balcony and watched as the elevator doors opened revealing Tony, Ziva and Ducky, all very solemn. Ziva seemed the most upset but Tony wasn't happy either. Whatever had happened over lunch had not been especially positive.

_It must be about McGee,_ Vance thought to himself. _What else could be making them so unhappy right now?_

Ducky patted Ziva on the shoulder, said something in a low voice to Tony and then headed to his domain.

He had work to do, but he was still leaning against the balcony watching the only active members of the MCRT sitting at their desks, working and yet looking absolutely miserable doing it.

About five minutes later, the elevator doors opened once more and Abby got out. She hurried across the bullpen, tears running down her cheeks and she headed for her lab. Neither Tony nor Ziva made any effort to stop her.

_How did it come to this?_ Vance asked himself.

Tim had been betrayed and injured. Gibbs was suspended. Tony and Ziva unhappy. Abby abjectly miserable. All in all, there was a lot that had gone wrong with formerly close associations. ...and he felt powerless to fix them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Another two days passed and Tim made what he considered to be the hardest decision he'd ever had to make in his life. He had given himself an ultimatum...and it would be enacted depending on Abby's reaction tonight. All day he sat, waiting for Abby to come home. The more he thought about it, the more it frightened him and the more it seemed like the only possibility, the only way to break out of the rut into which he and Abby had fallen.

And it _was_ a rut. Every night, they slept together but so far apart that they might as well be in separate worlds. Every morning, Abby went to work and Tim watched her leave, wondering when he would be able to go with her. Every evening, any discussion of what had happened quickly devolved into Abby apologizing for what she'd done and saying how much she regretted it. It wasn't enough. It never had been, but now it was so far from enough that Tim couldn't take it anymore.

So he had made all the arrangements. Tonight, he would tell Abby what had to happen and she would have to make the decision...but if she didn't, then he would do it for her because he couldn't tolerate waiting any longer.

_It can't go on,_ he said to himself. _I can't do this anymore._

Steeling himself for what was likely to come, he sat in the living room and waited for Abby to come home.

He hoped she wouldn't notice the packed bag in the study. ...but she wouldn't. She didn't usually go in there unless he was there.

He heard Abby's car pull into the driveway and he swallowed. He wasn't looking forward to this. He'd never done something that he had known in advance would make Abby cry. This would make her cry.

"Tim? I'm home!"

"I'm in here," Tim said.

Abby came in with the usual fake smile.

"I think we'll have to actually cook for ourselves tonight."

Tim nodded.

"What is it, Tim?" Abby asked, the smile vanishing. Tim was glad of that.

"We have to talk, Abby. Now."

"Okay."

She sat down.

"I need to know why you slept with someone else," Tim said.

"I told you, Tim. I can't think of why. It was stupid and I wish I hadn't done it."

Tim was shaking his head before she finished.

"No, Abby. That won't work anymore. I shouldn't have let it work at all. I can't."

"What do you mean, Tim?"

"Abby...do you know what saying that means?"

Abby looked at him with some confusion.

"It means either that you're lying to me or that I can never trust you again."

Abby's eyes widened. "What? Tim...how can you–?"

"Abby, you _have_ to know what you were thinking, even if it's stupid. You have to know. If you don't, then I can't trust that it won't happen again...and I can't...couldn't ever tolerate living through this again. So..." Tim took a deep breath and stood up. "So I can't stay here. I talked to Ducky yesterday morning while you were at work. He's willing to let me stay with him for a little while."

"Tim, no!" Abby stood up, too, tears coming into her eyes.

Tim kept his voice calm. "Yes, Abby. I can't live like this. I can't live knowing that you slept with another man but can't spend the time needed to figure out why you did what you did. I can't be the only one trying to fight for this. I can't do it. Not anymore. Too much has gone wrong. I love you, Abby. I love you more than anything in the world...and I can't live here not knowing if you feel the same...because I don't. All the 'I love you's in the world can't make up for the fact that we're just not looking at this in the same way."

Tim felt his throat tighten and he turned away from her and walked to the study. He paused as he opened the door but then walked in and picked up the bag. With another deep breath, he turned back and headed for the front door.

Abby was there, standing in front of the door, looking completely devastated.

"Please, Tim...please, don't go. If you leave...you'll never come back. We both know it. If you go..."

"Abby, if I stay...I can't do it anymore."

Abby dropped to her knees, but she didn't shout or sob. Tears fell silently down her cheeks.

"Please, Tim...I beg you...please, don't leave. I can't let you go. I love you too much. I can't...can't lose you."

"Then...then _why_ were you willing to lose me for one night?"

Still on her knees, Abby dropped her head and covered her face with her hands.

"Because...because I'm _selfish_, Tim! I'm stupid and selfish! I called you and I wanted to tell you how everything went, but you didn't answer! I thought...I thought that...that it was just like you. You tell me to do things with my friends if I want to but you don't stay up anxiously waiting. You don't drop everything to be with me!"

"Abby..." Tim said.

"No...No, you didn't answer your phone and I was mad. This guy at the conference...he'd asked a lot of questions during my paper. Good questions. Interesting questions. He paid a lot of attention to me. He flirted with me and it was fun. He took me out for dinner and talked and talked to me. And I even tried calling again while we were at the restaurant but you still didn't answer."

The bag fell to the floor, almost of its own accord. Tim didn't really remember choosing to let go of it. It was as if his whole body had gone numb as he stared down at his wife, listening to what she said.

"You didn't leave a message," Tim said vaguely.

"I know. I thought that you didn't deserve a message if you weren't going to bother picking up your phone. And as we drank at the bar, the guy started getting more flirty and in my head..." Abby wouldn't look up at him, but her hands fell to her sides. "...in my head it went from me being annoyed that you didn't answer your phone to...to...if you didn't care about me I didn't care about you."

"You..." Tim couldn't finish, couldn't say more than one word.

It didn't matter. Abby wasn't done yet.

"When I woke up the next morning, he was sleeping next to me. I couldn't believe it. No, that's not true. I _could_ believe it, but I didn't _want_ to believe it. I didn't want to believe that I could have done that...to you. I didn't want to believe that I could be that kind of person. I got out of bed, gathered my...my stuff and I ran out of the room. I went to my hotel room and hid there for most of the day. I didn't go to any of the morning sessions. I just hid in my room and wondered what I was going to do."

Then, Tim was also on his knees. Again, he didn't remember choosing to do so, but he did it. They were on the same level. Abby was still staring at the floor while Tim was staring at her, horrified and hurt and angry all at the same time. He couldn't look away from her.

"I thought that...that maybe I could just not tell you and you'd never know. Then, you wouldn't...wouldn't look at me the way you have been. That look that says that it would have been kinder if I had just shot you through the heart. Then, you'd never have to feel that way. ...but I can't do it. I can't hide it, and you knew. Even if you didn't know exactly, I could see that you knew something was wrong. I tried to keep it from you, but I couldn't."

Tim could see the places where the tears had fallen from Abby's eyes and onto the floor. There was a long silence. Tim couldn't think of a single thing to say. He couldn't even bring himself to move off the floor.

"Please, don't leave me, Tim," Abby said, still staring at the floor. "I know. I know I don't deserve it. I know I hurt you. I know that I've been really selfish and I've made you hurt a lot. I know. I know...but please, don't leave me. I love you so much. I...I can change. I really can. I told myself, when I was hiding in the hotel, that I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you ever again...but I still have and I know that I did and I know that...that I shouldn't ask you to stay when you don't want to. ...but let me be selfish this one last time and let me beg you to stay, Tim. Please, stay. Please, don't leave."

Another long silence.

"Why...Why didn't you just tell me this before?" he asked.

"I thought it would hurt more to know that there really was no reason for what I did than it would for you not to know. ...and I was wrong."

Tim felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest was so tight.

"Abby..."

"What, Tim?"

Tim struggled back to his feet.

"You...need to...let me leave."

Abby's head lifted and she surged to her feet, as well.

"No, Tim! Please?"

"Abby...if you love me as much as you say you do...you need to let me go. I can't...deal with this tonight. I'll come back tomorrow night. Please...you've begged me to stay. I'm begging you to let me go. Please."

Abby's mascara had made dark tracks down her cheeks. She looked at him, clearly wanting to beg him to stay again, but finally she nodded, lower lip quivering.

"Okay...okay, Tim." She stepped away from the door.

He bent over and picked up his bag. Then, he stepped toward the door. Just before he turned the knob, Abby grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug. He waited for her to apologize again, but she didn't.

"Let me get the door for you, Tim," she said and moved his hand away so that she could open it. "Bye, Tim."

Tim managed to smile at the small gesture. He reached out and wiped away a smear of mascara on her cheek and then walked out...to the taxi which was waiting for him at the curb.

He didn't look back at Abby, knowing that, if she was standing there, she would be crying. Instead, he got into the taxi and gave Ducky's address. The ride was silent. When the taxi pulled up to Ducky's house, Tim paid and got out. He stood for a moment and then closed the car door and walked up the steps.

Ducky opened the door before he could knock and stood aside to let him in. He said nothing but directed Tim to the spare bedroom. Tim followed him and then set his bag on the floor by the bed. The tightness in his chest spread to his throat...and his eyes started to sting. He sank down onto the bed. Ducky sat beside him.

"I'm sorry, lad," he said.

Tim looked at him.

"It's not your fault, Ducky," he said.

Tim smiled and then his face crumpled and he began to cry.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Ducky looked in on Tim early the next morning. ...but he was already awake.

"Good morning, Timothy."

"Morning, Ducky."

"How are you feeling?"

Tim smiled wanly. "Crappy."

"Understandable. How long will you be wanting to stay here? You're welcome for as long as you wish to be my guest."

"Thanks. I don't know. I told Abby I'd go back tonight...but..."

"You don't want to?"

"No. I don't. Ducky, I feel like it'd be easier just to check out from everything and go somewhere else. ...but I don't want to give up my life! It's _my_ life! I shouldn't have to be the one to give things up."

"And you don't have to."

"But what _am_ I supposed to do?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On what you _want_. What is that?"

"The power to turn back time?" Tim asked with a small smile.

"Realistically, Timothy. What do you want?"

Tim sighed. "I want to...get my life back in order. I just don't know how."

"Well, don't rush it. It will be hard enough without pushing."

"Ducky, can I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

"Do you think it's even possible?"

Ducky sat beside Tim once more and put his arm around Tim's shoulders.

"I don't know, Timothy. I do know that if you want it, you should try because what's the point in giving up without trying?"

"I just don't...I don't know if I can fail in both places. Maybe I could deal with everything at NCIS if Abby and I can work things out. Maybe I can deal with Abby if I can work out things at NCIS. ...but if both are going wrong...I can't deal with it. ...and both are so far wrong that...that I can't deal with it."

"It's not a failure, Timothy. Not on your part, at any rate."

"But...even if you're right, Ducky..."

"I am."

Tim smiled a little. "Even if you're right, I can't deal with all this...but I have to. Either that or I have to leave completely."

"Don't make a decision right now, Timothy. I think it's all too fresh for that. Why don't you just take a day or two and relax?"

"Ducky, I've had days and days of doing nothing. I'm tired of that."

"That's not what I said. I said _relax_, not do nothing."

"Okay, so...what do I do, then?"

"What do you do when you want to relax, Timothy?" Ducky said. "You can't go to work yet...and I'm not sure that would be wise in any case. You need to take time away from your troubles not seek for them."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Well, you've already done pretty well. You're here...and my home is open to you for as long as you wish."

"Yeah..."

"Perhaps you should consider _not_ returning to your home this evening."

"But I promised Abby! Even if _she_ can't handle..." Tim stopped and looked away. "Maybe you're right."

"I don't claim to be all-knowing, Timothy, but there is something to be said for taking some time to be apart, particularly if being together is causing you anguish."

"So...what am I going to do?" Tim asked helplessly.

"There are quite a few books in the library."

Tim smiled. "I haven't been reading for a while. It's...It's been hard to focus on the words."

"Have you tried recently?"

"No. I guess I haven't."

"Then, I suggest you give it a try...or try something else that relaxes you. I know it's not easy, but try to take a break from all your stresses. It will do you some good. ...and turn off your phone."

"Why?"

"So that you won't worry about getting any calls. Just turn it off. I'll speak to Abigail today...as I'm certain she'll ask me about you in any case."

"Ducky...I don't want to be running away from my problems."

"It's not running away...nor is it cowardice. You are trying too hard and it can't only be you trying, Timothy...as you told me before. That's why you called me in the first place, isn't it? You told me that it wasn't working. You were tired of trying."

Tim looked around the room.

"Ducky?"

"Yes, lad?"

"I don't want to lose Abby...even now...it's stupid, but I don't. ...but I can't face it."

"Love isn't stupid, Timothy, but you're right. You can't at the moment, and your marriage can't survive as it now stands. If you wish to give it a chance to do so, then you yourself must be ready for the struggle...and you are not."

"And...and...what about Gibbs?"

"Timothy, don't tread in that part of your troubles until you're ready. One at a time."

"All right. Okay." Tim sighed. "I hate this, Ducky."

"As do I, Timothy. As do I."

Ducky smiled and stood.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

"Okay. Thank you, Ducky."

"You're welcome, lad."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs sat alone in his house...as usual. He had one week left of his suspension and he had no idea how to go back to NCIS. For the first time in years, he didn't know what to do. He had no clue how to proceed. How could he make even a single _step_ toward fixing what he had so handily broken? ...and how could he fix what hadn't ever been exactly stellar in the first place? What to do about all of it? It felt as though there was a huge weight on his shoulders, one that he couldn't get rid of. It was slowly breaking him down and at the same time, he could see with crystal clarity all the places he'd gone wrong.

"I hate this," he said, actually speaking aloud. What was going to happen when Tim was back at work and he was leading the team again? Was that really even possible?

About twenty times every day, he considered the possibility of actually speaking to Tim and trying to get at what it might take to get some forgiveness...if Tim was willing to forgive at all. ...and every time, he backed away from the idea. The same uncertainty that kept him from knowing what to do about his job also kept him from knowing just what to do about Tim himself. He still closed his eyes and could see the shift in expression from expectant to shocked. Gibbs wasn't sure he wanted to see what was in Tim's expression now. Hatred? Bitterness? Anger? ...Betrayal?

Gibbs had to confess, even just to himself, that he felt lost. There weren't many people he could confess that to besides himself. ...but maybe Ducky?

Ducky would be up by now. He usually got up pretty early. That worked. Maybe he wouldn't mind talking a little before he left for NCIS. Normally, of course, Gibbs would just talk to him at work...but seeing as he wouldn't _be_ there...

Gibbs sighed. He had ruined a lot of things with that ill-planned swing. He didn't like swimming around in the pool of self-pity...and he'd been doing too much of that. If there was _any_ chance of things getting better, he had to _do_ something, not just sit and wait for it to happen.

Determined now, he got up and headed out to his car. He thought about calling first but then decided against it. If Ducky was awake (as he usually was), he wouldn't mind some company at breakfast. If he wasn't, Gibbs' calling would just wake him up. A soft knock would alert someone who was awake but not disturb the sleeping.

The drive over to Georgetown was quick. It was early enough that there wasn't much traffic on the roads just yet. It meant that finding parking on Ducky's street was harder, but he lucked out that on his second driveby, he caught a someone just pulling out. He quickly took the space and walked the half-block to Ducky's home.

He mounted the steps and then knocked on the door before he could change his mind. He wasn't sure he was ready to face Ducky's censure again. He knew he deserved it, but no one could deliver a diatribe quite like Ducky.

Then, an unexpected voice drifted out through one of the open windows.

"No, Ducky, I'll get it. I'll bet it's Abby." The voice was resigned, slightly dejected.

"Timothy, you're my guest!"

"Then, you can do the dishes."

Gibbs heard the soft laughter...and he wanted to run away. Leroy Jethro Gibbs wanted to run away. He didn't want to face Tim. That hadn't been his plan for this morning. He hadn't planned on even _seeing_ Tim just yet. Talking to Ducky was supposed to prepare him to see Tim...and why was Tim here?

...but he couldn't run away. The door was already opening. In the way he often did, Gibbs schooled his features and crafted a look of calm as Tim swung open the door and stared at him with his mouth half-open.

"Morning, McGee," he said, a bit gruffly.

Tim's mouth silently made shapes...with no sound actually coming out.

Gibbs didn't show it but he was shocked at Tim's gaunt appearance. He could still see the bruise. But more than the bruise was the wasted and defeated look Tim had...as if all his strength had been sucked away. Gibbs was appalled...and ashamed because he knew that probably most of that was due to him.

"G-Gibbs," Tim said finally.

Then, the expression in his eyes hardened and he covered his shock...much as Gibbs had...only he covered his shock with anger.

"Ducky...it's Gibbs."

Tim looked at Gibbs for a second longer and then turned and walked away without another word, leaving Gibbs standing out on the stoop.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Abby woke up far too early. She'd slept poorly all night long.

After Tim had left, she had fled inside, up the stairs and to their bedroom. Only after burying herself under the blankets, hiding from the reality now staring her in the face, had she begun to sob. Once she had started, she hadn't been able to stop, not for a long time...hours perhaps. The sun was down, full darkness came on...and Abby had looked at the bedding and thrown all the red satin pillows onto the floor, leaving only Tim's plain cotton behind. She had held them close to her and tried to sleep.

All through the night, she had felt Tim's absence so deeply that it was like the bed was infinitely large...and infinitely empty. Instead of sleeping on her own side, she curled up on Tim's side and then called Jethro to come onto the bed. ...but not even the comforting bulk of Jethro's furry body could remove the sting.

Now, with the sun just peeking over the horizon, Abby sat up and looked at the now-mascara-streaked white pillows. Tears came to her eyes again. She picked up one of the pillows and hugged it tightly for a few minutes...leaving more mascara stains.

Then, she shook herself and got up. Quickly, she showered...and decided to forgo the mascara for today because her eyes would fill with tears every time she looked at something belonging to Tim...every time she thought of how he had looked at her the night before

Even though she knew it was stupid, Abby had never really considered the possibility of Tim leaving. She thought that it would take time, but they could just move on.

_Would _you_ have just "moved on" if Tim had done this to you?_

The treacherous voice in her head made her wince. She knew she wouldn't have. She would have wailed about what Tim had done to her, how he had destroyed everything that they had built. She would have told everyone about what Tim had done to her. She would have told Gibbs and expected Gibbs to do something about it. She would have made Tim sleep downstairs...if she had been nice. More than likely, she would have been so upset that she would have thrown him out.

_Why do you think Tim should just "move on" then? What makes you think that this is any easier for him? What makes you think that he _isn't_ angry? Just because he's never shown his anger to you, does that mean that he's not angry?_

Tim was so much better. Not only had he not told anyone, he had tried to keep everything a secret...until that intention had left him betrayed by his friends, broken down by his boss and...and alone.

Abby looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"I'm sorry. I really am," she whispered. "Why isn't that enough?"

_Would it be enough if Tim said that to you? Would being sorry be enough to make everything okay?_

No. No, it wouldn't. Abby knew that had their situations been reversed, she would have told him that there was nothing he could do to fix things...but she would expect him to do everything he could and more. She would expect him to grovel at her feet. ...and she would never let him forget that she had deigned to let him stay with her.

Her only hope of a happy ending relied on Tim being less vindictive than she could picture herself being.

"But that's not enough," she said aloud. "Nothing can be."

...and Abby began to understand why Gibbs had said he couldn't fix things. How was such a thing possible when the damage was so pervasive?

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky watched Tim vanish into the spare room and hurried to the front door...where Gibbs was still standing outside.

"Jethro! What are you doing here so early?"

"Didn't know you had a guest," Gibbs said calmly.

"Timothy arranged in advance. If you had done the same, I might have told you," Ducky said, not in the mood to be civil.

"Might?"

"Timothy's presence here is really none of your business, Jethro."

"I know."

Something about the way Gibbs said that gave Ducky pause.

"Did you have a reason for coming by?"

"To talk to you."

"About?"

Gibbs smiled wryly. "About McGee."

"Ah. I see. Forgive me if I don't invite you inside. I don't think Timothy is ready to speak to you just yet."

"I'm...not ready to talk to him."

Ducky might still be upset, but he appreciated what it had taken for Gibbs to admit that.

"But you're ready to talk to me?"

Gibbs smiled. "It's time to take my licks, I guess."

Ducky stepped out onto the stoop, closing the door behind him.

"Might I suggest a walk instead? I think you're a bit too old to be paddled."

"Sure." Gibbs nodded and followed Ducky out to the sidewalk.

Ducky looked back toward his house and thought he saw a figure standing at the window. He turned to Gibbs.

"Why did you come here, Jethro? What is that you wanted from me so early in the morning?"

"Do you think it's possible for McGee to forgive me?"

"I couldn't even venture to say," Ducky said. "Certainly not _now_. He is not in a forgiving mood."

"I don't blame him."

"Good. That's a first step. Perhaps you should have tried that a few weeks ago and saved us all a _lot_ of grief."

"I can't go back in time, Duck. I wish I could, but I can't."

Ducky looked at Gibbs in surprise. The man actually sounded remorseful.

"What are you going to do, then?" he asked.

"I don't know." Gibbs smiled slightly. "I was hoping for some suggestions."

"I wish I could tell you that there was some magical formula you could follow and repair what has been broken...but I'm afraid that's impossible."

"I don't expect magic. Just something. My suspension ends next week. When McGee comes back..."

"What will you do about his presence?"

Gibbs nodded shortly. Ducky took a deep breath and considered. He really didn't know what to say.

"Really, Ducky. How is it even possible that McGee could want to stay in a position working under me?"

"It's the job he loves. He doesn't want to give up what he has achieved because of the actions of others."

"He could have his pick of MCRTs. They're plenty prestigious. Vance likes him. He'd be willing to move him if he asked."

Ducky sighed with a little frustration. "You're not _listening_ to me, Jethro...which is the problem. You've already determined how Timothy should be feeling. You've already determined the logical steps he should be taking...and you act surprised that he's not doing what you think he should be." At Gibbs' blank look, Ducky shook his head. "For goodness' sake, man! Open your ears. Open your eyes and stop assuming that you have all the answers! Even when you admit that you don't know what to do, you are still basing your feeling on the ideas you have that you already know what's going on, what's being thought by others. And it's patently obvious that you don't have a clue what is going through Timothy's mind right now."

"Then, enlighten me," Gibbs said.

Ducky shot him a look. There was an edge to the suggestion.

"Timothy does not _want_ to be on another MCRT. He does not _want_ to give up the position he fought to get. Another team would not be located in the right place. ...even if he took a position on another MCRT here in DC. That's not what he wants!"

"Then, what _does_ he want?"

Ducky laughed sadly. "Can't you see it, Jethro?"

"No."

"That's the tragedy. You really can't see what it is he wants. For all your towering insight when it comes to criminals and people who have defied the law or are hiding from the law or fear the law...you haven't the slightest clue about what someone on _your_ side of the law wants, someone you should know much better than you do."

"What does he want, Ducky?"

"He wants his life back, Jethro. It's as simple and as infinitely distant as that. Not two months ago, he was married to a woman he loves desperately. He had the job he wanted. He had friends, coworkers. Certainly, nothing was perfect. That's to be expected with any life, but he had his own version of the American dream: a home, a family, a wife, a job, friends. ...and all that is gone! He has left his home to stay with me. While his immediate family has been unaffected, that is because they don't know. His wife betrayed him. Because of injury, he has been unable to work. He has lost his friends...or at least his belief that they _are_ his friends. He has lost it all, Jethro! ...and he wants it back! ...and believe it or not, _you_ are a part of that. _That_ is why he won't leave. _That_ is why he has not tried to give you the punishment you so _richly_ deserve. _That_ is why he has not simply thrown up his hands and given up. He wants all that he had back again. While he has no faith in any of you right now...he _wants_ to have that faith again."

"He said all that?"

Ducky smiled. "No. He hasn't. I doubt all that is conscious to him. He just knows that he doesn't want to give up everything he had gained. He still loves Abigail. He still loves his job. All that comes with those things...he doesn't want to lose them again. He wants them back."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Ducky was frustrated but willing to remain silent if it would help.

"So...what do I do?"

Ducky decided he'd never heard Gibbs sound so helpless before. Some of his frustration faded.

"Be professional when Timothy comes back to work. Treat him like a respected member of your team. That's what he thinks he wants right now...respect...nothing more. He has convinced himself that he wants no camaraderie, no friendship. All he wants is respect. It will allow him to get back his dignity. Until he feels that he is on firmer ground, he won't be able to accept any attempt at friendship from anyone. My suggestion is that you treat him like a respected employee and nothing more...but nothing _less_ either."

"And you think that will help?"

"Like I said before, I have no idea what will help in this situation. This is simply my suggestion about what _might_ help. You should perhaps speak with Timothy before he comes back to work, but that should not be undertaken yet. Give him time. He's just recovering from his injury and he is suffering anew the pain of his betrayal. He needs some time away from his pain...and talking with you won't help in that respect."

Gibbs nodded silently. Ducky turned around and began to head back toward his home. Gibbs turned with him and didn't speak until they reached the gate in front of his house.

"Duck?"

"Yes?"

"Maybe...you could ask McGee when he's ready to talk...to me." Gibbs wasn't looking at Ducky. He was looking toward the house...at Tim who was standing, looking out at the two men.

Ducky smiled at Tim and then nodded.

"When I judge the time is right."

"Fine."

"You might also consider not alienating your other team members as well. While Timothy deserves your concern...so do they, and they are worried and anxious, as much as they might try to hide it."

"Right."

"I mean it, Jethro," Ducky said sternly. "You cannot place Timothy at the top of the list and forget the others. That will only create the same problem in the other direction...and that won't help anyone, not even Timothy. You can't treat them exactly the same, but Tony and Ziva deserve to be treated as a part of your team. Don't forget them in this crisis. Now, I have to get to work."

Gibbs nodded once more and then, with a final look at Tim who stood motionless in the window, he turned away and walked toward his car. Ducky watched him go and then headed inside.

"What did he want?" Tim asked instantly.

"To speak with me."

"About what?"

"You, of course. He didn't know you would be here."

"Why me?"

Ducky looked at Tim carefully. He wasn't sure that getting into details would be helpful, but he didn't want to lie to Tim either and leave him feeling pushed away again.

"He's worried about how things will work out when you return to work. I told him that he shouldn't attempt to speak with you right now. When you're ready, you may tell me and I'll pass along the message."

Tim began tapping his molars together as he considered what Ducky had said. Then, he looked at Ducky.

"I think...I'm going to...try reading today."

"I think that's a very good idea. Did you turn off your phone?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You may call me if you have any trouble. Treat this as your own home, Timothy. For as long as you need it...it is yours."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"Now, I must be getting along. I don't want to be late. Mr. Palmer would never let me forget it."

Tim smiled. "Say hi to him for me, would you?"

Ducky knew why Tim had asked it and he smiled back.

"I certainly shall. I'll see you this evening."

Tim started to walk toward the study and then he turned back. "I'm not going...back home tonight."

"That's quite all right. I'll tell Abigail not to expect you."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"You're welcome."

Ducky let Tim go seek his solitude in among the words of ages past. As he headed for his car, he hoped that the advice he had given would help. Sometimes, one could not be sure.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Ducky had decided to wait to tell Abby that Tim wouldn't be coming home that night. Why ruin her day more than need be? ...but Abby didn't allow it. She came down during her lunch break and accosted him.

"Ducky, how's Tim? Is he okay? I tried to call him...once or twice, but he didn't answer! It just went straight to voice mail! I just wanted to be sure he was all right because..."

"Abigail, he is fine...physically," Ducky said, smoothly interrupting her. "He has simply turned off his phone."

"...oh..."

"And he won't be returning to your home tonight."

"What? Why?" Abby asked, instantly fearful and teary. "He said he'd come back!"

"Abigail..." Ducky looked at her and then sighed and took her by the arm, directing her into his office. "Have a seat for a moment. We need to talk."

"About what?"

"About your..." He debated briefly about being diplomatic and then decided he was tired of being diplomatic. "...about your childish behavior, to put not too fine a point on it."

"Ducky!" Abby protested.

"Sit down, Abigail," Ducky said firmly.

Abby sat.

"Thank you. Now, I realize that you feel regret for what happened here and for your own actions, but that is not enough and you need to stop thinking of yourself."

"I'm worried about him! I really am!"

"But you still are worried more about yourself. Before you try to protest, let me point something out to you. When I told you that Timothy would not be returning, your immediate thought was that he said he would, not a question of why he might feel it necessary to remain in my home. Your first thought was yourself. _You _want Timothy to come home."

"Of course, I do!"

"But shouldn't what _he_ wants matter?"

"It does!"

"Does it, Abigail?" Ducky asked, not raising his voice, but not allowing for prevarication. "Does it really? Because your actions do not indicate concern for the injured party first. It indicates concern for yourself with Timothy coming second. I am not married and never have been, but marriage doesn't work when one puts oneself first. You put yourself and your needs ahead of your husband and his needs. I dare say that is nothing new. Although you are generally kind and considerate to others, when it comes down to it, you have to have your way."

Abby bit her lip and Ducky hesitated before continuing his gentle lecture.

"And that is the attitude of a selfish and childish person. You are well past the age when you should expect everything to go your way, when you think the world should revolve around you. More than that, you are married! A good marriage does not involve constant capitulation on the part of one spouse. It involves compromise. Lots of compromise. When I have been to your home, I have noticed that the decor is almost exclusively yours. Did you ask Timothy for his input?"

"He didn't care!"

"Did you _ask_ him, Abigail?"

"Yes."

"How?" Ducky asked. "Did you make a decision and then ask for his confirmation or did you look at one part of the house and ask what he would suggest?"

Abby looked down at her lap.

"The first or the second, Abigail?"

"The first," Abby whispered.

"Now, perhaps Timothy really didn't care. I dare say that interior decoration is not high on his list of priorities, but he should have had the chance to give real input...and that was _his_ mistake in not insisting that he get it. He has given over to your childish whims far too often, but you have held onto childish whims well after you should have. Petulance when being ignored or when you feel you have been slighted...forcing your opinions on others. These are not the actions of the well-educated woman I know you are."

"He didn't want Jethro," Abby whispered, still not looking at Ducky. "...but I made him take him anyway. ...but he ended up liking him! Tim loves Jethro now!"

"I don't deny it, but again, did you give him a choice? What if he had held firm and said no? What would you have done? How long would you have shunned him?"

Abby sniffled.

"This is why it would be disastrous for Timothy to return tonight. He is finally deciding that it has gone far enough. He can no longer capitulate to all that you want. You will have to decide if you can tolerate not always winning. Now, should you wish to speak with him, you may ask him if he would mind it, but I would suggest that you give him one day more to adjust. Perhaps it will help _you _to think about things."

Abby nodded mutely. She sat there, much like a child who had just endured a parental lecture. Then, she looked up.

"Can I still have a hug, Ducky?" she asked tearfully.

Ducky smiled. "Of course, my dear."

Abby got up and hugged him, but it wasn't her usual. This was just a quiet hug, full of sadness. After a few seconds, she let him go and smiled through her tears.

"Thanks, Ducky."

"Anytime, Abigail."

Abby nodded and walked toward the door. Then, she stopped.

"I do love him, Ducky. I really do. ...take care of him."

"I will do my level best."

"Okay."

Then, she left and Ducky sank down onto her vacated seat and sighed.

"Oh, what tangled webs we weave."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim set the book down and closed his eyes. Another headache. They weren't bad, but he was tired of them and was ready for all the problems associated with his concussion to be gone. It was frustrating. He'd discovered that he could focus on the page for about half an hour before he had to take a break. This was hard to endure for a guy who used to spend an entire day either reading or using his computer.

Still, he was getting better. He could feel the difference just in the last few days. He felt less frail, less like he could face a collapse at any moment. It was just the lingering headache, but those were now more frustrating than anything. He did get tired too easily. That was just part of recovering, he supposed.

With a sigh Tim looked around the study. Ducky seemed pretty happy with his life as he had it. He certainly was able to live comfortably.

_Why can't I be happy with _my_ life?_ Tim wondered to himself.

After a few moments of wallowing in self pity, he got out of the comfortable chair and walked to the kitchen. He knew he should eat more. He didn't feel as hungry lately as he had in the past. Too many things tended to tie his stomach up in knots, but he knew that if he starved himself, he'd be less likely to get better quickly.

Ducky had said he could help himself to anything, but Tim was hesitant about doing that. He still felt like an invader here. This wasn't his home.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings and he headed to it, wondering who it could be right now.

_Surely, it wouldn't be Abby. Not now. Not today..._

He opened the door.

"Hello, McGee."

"Ziva," Tim said in surprise. He looked back over his shoulder at the clock. "Shouldn't you be working?"

Ziva smiled self-consciously.

"I am taking my lunch now. When...Gibbs...returns next week, we will be back on the regular rotation, but we have not been doing much that is time-sensitive."

"Oh...uh...come in." He stepped back.

Ziva nodded and came inside, a bag in her hand.

"I brought lunch, if you are hungry."

Tim felt awkward and it was clear that Ziva felt the same way.

"Uh...sure...okay." Tim led the way to the kitchen, Ziva following docilely behind him. "What did you bring?"

"It is nothing exciting. I was not sure what you might want...if you wanted anything at all. There is a soup and sandwich place not far from here."

"That's fine."

Ziva opened the bag and set out a couple of takeout containers.

"That is a black-bean soup and this is vegetable. You may choose which you prefer. Both are good."

Tim looked at them and then took the black bean.

"The sandwiches are the same." She handed him one.

"Thanks, Ziva," Tim said and stared at his meal for a few seconds before getting over his discomfort. He sipped at the hot soup. "It is good."

"Yes. I have had it on few occasions."

Then, they ate in silence for a while. Tim couldn't think of anything to say and Ziva was either feeling the same or else she felt no need to speak. Either was a possibility. When he'd finished all he could, he looked at her, for almost the first time.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you come here?"

Ziva smiled a little. "To...make a beginning."

"A beginning of what?"

"A beginning of repairing the damage I have done. We all hurt you in our own ways, to different degrees. I am simply trying to make amends. This is not enough, but I wish to begin...if you will allow it."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I wish to. I hate that my inaction hurt you and that it hurt our friendship. That is why I wish to begin to make things better if I can...if you will let me. Will you?"

Tim sat back in the chair and thought about it. Ziva _seemed_ sincere, and to be honest, her part was the most minor of them all. Forgiving her would be easier than forgiving anyone else.

"Okay," he said finally. "If you want to...just...don't...rush it, okay?"

"I will not. If you wish me to stop doing something, simply tell me and I will."

Tim smiled a little. "All right." He glanced at the clock. "You should probably get back."

"Yes. I should. Thank you."

"Thanks for lunch."

Ziva gathered all the containers, napkins and plastic utensils and returned them to the bag. Then, she stood and Tim followed suit.

"Anytime. Do you know when you will be returning to work?"

"It'll be at least another week, I think. When I first come back, it'll be only light duty until I get better."

"I have missed you, McGee. I will be happy to see you there."

"Thanks."

With that, lunch was over. Ziva didn't overstay her welcome. She walked back to the front door and left with a simple farewell. Tim watched her go and sighed to himself.

Then, he returned to the study and picked up the book he'd been reading.

_Maybe I'll be able to read for thirty-_one_ minutes this time._


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Abby stepped into the house that evening and the emptiness of it seemed oppressive. Not even Jethro's exuberant greeting could get rid of the cavernous feeling...knowing that Tim wasn't there and _wouldn't_ be there. In fact, it made her feel sick to realize that this could be the way things were forever. Coming home to an empty house...without her husband.

She knelt down and put her arms around Jethro.

"I love him, Jethro. I really do. I miss him. I love him. How can I show it? What can I do to make this better? How can I fix this?"

Jethro whined at her and pulled away. He looked behind her, clearly waiting for Tim.

"He's not coming tonight, Jethro. Maybe not tomorrow, either," Abby whispered and started to cry.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony found Ziva at the local bar after work. He walked over and sat beside her quietly. Ziva fiddled with her drink for a few seconds.

"He is all right, Tony."

"You saw him?"

"Yes. He is not happy, but he looks better than he did."

"How did he...act?"

"Wary."

"What did you say?"

"That I wanted to make a start to fixing what was wrong."

"He accepted that?"

"He said he did...but he said not to rush him."

"Yeah. You think he'd talk to me?"

"Perhaps. I did not ask about you."

Tony grimaced. "If ever there was a time to be Superman."

"What?"

Tony ordered a scotch and then sighed.

"Turn back time. I wish I could. I've wished that so often that I've probably used up any possible chance I have of a wish coming true."

Ziva looked at Tony and then back at her drink.

"But I can't turn back time. I can't keep my mouth shut. I can't change what I thought. I just wish I could."

"Have you told him this?"

"Yeah. After he had his seizure."

"Perhaps you could tell him again."

"I'm not going to copy you and take him lunch. It wouldn't seem...sincere."

Ziva smiled. "Maybe you could try something else."

"Like what?"

"I do not know. Ask Ducky. He is the one McGee is staying with right now. He is the one McGee still trusts."

Tony leaned back and stared at the counter. "This sucks."

"Yes, it does," Ziva agreed.

They both drank their drinks and left the bar.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"How was your day?" Ducky asked with a smile as he and Tim sat at the table and ate dinner.

Tim grinned. "Uneventful...which was nice. Ziva came over...brought lunch. It was weird, but okay. I'm sick of getting these headaches, though."

"They'll pass."

"I just wish they'd pass now."

"Most things don't."

"I know...boy, do I know that." Tim leaned back in the chair. "Why is it that the good times seem to fly by like nothing...and the bad times come and settle in for a long hard slog?"

"It's all a matter of perspective, Timothy," Ducky said sympathetically. "Time passes at the same rate regardless of what is happening. But misery tends to focus our minds on the time. We _will_ it to pass more quickly simply so that we can get beyond what we're suffering. Because we focus on the time, we _notice_ its passing...where we don't when times are good because we are too busy living our lives to pay attention to such a simple thing as time."

Tim smiled. "Why is it that you always sound so smart, Ducky? I don't think I could possibly ask you a question that you couldn't at least _talk_ about intelligently."

"One of the blessings of having lived for a long time, lad," Ducky said with a smile.

Tim laughed in reply, and Ducky found the sound both welcome and sad at the same time. He hadn't heard Tim laugh in a long time.

"Now, how about some tea?"

"I'm not a big tea person, Ducky. I take coffee more often."

"Yes, well, now is the time to broaden your horizons. I have some that should help fight your headaches."

"Really?"

"Yes. You needn't sound so skeptical," Ducky chided. "Sit there and you'll see."

Tim smiled. "I can help clean up, Ducky."

"No, lad. You will sit there and wait."

Tim leaned back in the chair again...and waited as he had been told to do. After a few minutes, Ducky came back with a tea tray. There was a very nice scent in the air.

"Lemon?"

Ducky smiled.

"Lemon balm tea. It is supposed to be very good for headaches."

"I guess I'll try anything once."

"That's the spirit."

Tim smiled and watched as Ducky prepared the tea. It wasn't an elaborate ceremony, but it was definitely more than Tim had ever bothered with. Ducky didn't speak while he poured, and Tim's mind wandered back to the surprise visits during this day. Ziva's had almost been welcome. Almost. Gibbs' had felt like an intrusion. An attack, even though he knew that Gibbs had no way of knowing he would be there. Funny...but this place had become his sanctuary and he didn't want any unwelcome invaders.

He took the proffered cup and sipped the tea. It was not bad.

"Ducky?"

"Yes, lad?"

"What did Abby say?"

"She's worried about you. Wants you to come home."

Tim took another sip and didn't look at Ducky as he contemplated the tea.

"I..." He trailed off.

"What is it, Timothy?"

Tim set the cup on the table.

"I don't want to go back...not yet. Not today. Not tomorrow. I just...I need to be away from her...just for a while...just until...until I can...can face all this." Tim flushed with embarrassment. "I can't deal with... I know that Abby will be upset. Really upset. She won't...understand. She'll be hurt...and part of me..."

"Thinks she deserves it?"

Tim nodded at the table.

"Timothy, you never have to hide your face from me. I am not here to pass judgment...but a piece of advice?"

Tim lifted his head. "What?"

"Your marriage to Abigail...it can't go on as it was. It really can't. You have given in to Abigail's dictates far too often, and she has _given_ dictates far too often. I know you love her, but love does _not_ involve losing one's spine! You must learn to stand up for yourself and not hide away from emotions that are completely natural to feel! Your emotions are understandable! You are hurt. You feel betrayed. You are _angry_ at all that has gone wrong. There is nothing whatever wrong with those feelings. If there is any hope at all of healing all the many breaches, you yourself must also change...oh, not in essentials. I find you too admirable a man to wish for that, but you should remember, Timothy, that you have as much a right to hold an opinion and to be happy as anyone else in the world. No more...but no less."

"I still love her, Ducky," Tim said.

"That is fine, but don't let that love blind you to the things that have to change. You will not be happy if you let things go back to how they were."

"I want it all back. Is it even possible?"

Ducky smiled. "Many have asked me that. I don't know, but I don't think it should go back to how it was...not in many aspects. While I know that you didn't _ask_ for this trial, perhaps you can use it to learn something...and to improve your lot."

Tim picked up the cup again and sat back, sipping at the fragrant tea.

"I don't feel strong enough to do it, Ducky."

"That's why you need some time. When I said as long as you need to stay, I meant it. Days, weeks, even months. I mean it. You are welcome to stay."

"Thanks, Ducky. I...I really appreciate it. Really."

"I know. Keep your chin up. Things will work out eventually."

"How I want them to?"

"That I don't know, but they _will_ work out. It will take time, patience and hard work."

Tim nodded, feeling slightly morose still.

"Are you finished?"

Tim looked at his cup. It was still half full. He shook his head.

"No. I...I want to just sit here and think a bit more, Ducky."

"Don't think too much or for too long."

"I'll try."

"Good. I'll be in the study if you need me."

"Thanks."

Ducky left and Tim sat alone at the table, staring at the tea in his cup. It was cooling down now, but he continued sipping at it. After a few minutes, he stood up and took his tea cup and saucer into the kitchen and set it on the tray. Then, he went back to his room and sat down on his bed, his phone in hand.

He turned it on and almost smiled as he saw all the calls from Abby, but then was surprised to see that he had four messages. He opened his voice mail.

"_Hey, McGee. It's Jimmy...Palmer. Just wanted to...say hi...I guess."_ A laugh. _"If you ever want to hang out...separate from the others, feel free to give me a call. That's it. Bye."_

Tim smiled. It was nice of Jimmy to say. Maybe he could take him up on it.

"_Tim, it's your mother. We've been a bit worried that we haven't been able to get a hold of you. I know you're a grown man, but could you humor us and give us a call? Maybe let us know when you and Abby might be coming our way again? Love you."_

Tim winced. He'd have to tell his parents...something. He didn't know what Abby was going to do with her parents, but he'd _have_ to tell his...and they'd be annoyed that he hadn't bothered to mention his hospitalization and his seizure.

"_Hello, Tim. It's Leon Vance. Jackie and I would like to invite you and Abby over for dinner again if you're interested. Let us know."_

Awkward...but again, something he'd have to acknowledge because it was kind of Vance to reiterate the invitation.

One more message left.

"_Hey...uh...McGee. It's me. Tony. Yeah...I...I was talking with Ziva tonight. She told me about how you wanted her to give you the time you needed. I don't want to push. Really. I don't. I just...wanted...to say I'm sorry about all this and that I wish I was Superman and could turn back time and stop all this from ever having happened. Anyway...um...if you ever want to...to bother acknowledging my existence again, and it would be totally your right not to...but if you do, you can...give me a call...or...or something. Yeah, okay. Bye."_

Tim wasn't sure what to make of Tony's message. He wasn't sure how he felt about that part. So he decided not to think about any of them tonight. He'd worry about the easy ones tomorrow...and put Tony off for later.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs sat at his computer, staring at the monitor...thinking about what Ducky had said, not only about Tim but also about the others. A massive rethink was in order, and he didn't engage in that kind of process very often. He was too set in his ways...or so he'd always told himself. But now, if he was going to salvage something out of this mess, it was going to require changing some things about himself. He'd screwed things up and now he did have to fix them.

The biggest question was how.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim didn't go home the next day...or the next...or the next. He did go home and pack more clothes...but he did it when Abby wasn't there. He called Jimmy and thanked him for the invitation. They made arrangements to get together on a weekend. He called the Vances and confessed that he'd moved out for a while and that he and Abby wouldn't be coming _together_ for a while. Jackie, who had answered the phone, told Tim to come over by himself anyway. He agreed.

He didn't call home, and he didn't call Tony.

The week ended. Tim was still at Ducky's. Abby was still alone. ...and Gibbs was coming back to work on Monday.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

_Monday..._

Tim watched Ducky leave for work. Neither of them had talked about it, but both of them had Gibbs' return to NCIS on their minds. Tim resolved not to say anything about it and if Ducky didn't agree, he allowed Tim to continue on that track for the moment.

But as soon as he was alone in the house, Tim couldn't help but wonder how Gibbs was feeling, how the others were feeling, how people would react to his return. Would they all just accept that Gibbs was back without wondering whether or not he _deserved_ to be back? Would there be awkwardness? Would they be _happy_ to have him back? Would _Abby _be happy to have him back? Did he even care?

"Yes. I care. I want to know."

...but what did he want the answers to be? That much Tim couldn't say. He didn't know.

Suddenly, his phone rang. He looked at the display and saw that it was his parents. He winced. He couldn't ignore them again. They'd really start to worry.

"Hi," he said.

"_Tim! Thank goodness. Your dad and I have been contemplating coming down to DC just to make sure you were all right."_

"I'm not," Tim said, deciding just to get it out.

"_What's wrong?"_

"What _isn't_ wrong?" Tim asked, hearing the bitterness he'd been trying so hard to deny infusing his voice...and for the first time, he let himself lay out everything all at once with the kind of anger he hadn't expressed before. He just couldn't care anymore about being diplomatic, being the good guy, keeping calm. He was angry and hurt and depressed and he didn't have it in him to hide that from his mother. "My wife cheated on me. My friend thought I was abusing her. My boss punched me out...gave me a concussion which led to a hematoma which could have killed me and I had a seizure; so I'm not allowed to drive for the next six months. I'm currently living with Ducky because he's the only person who believed me and I'm wondering if everything I thought I had was all a big...fat...lie." By the end of the list, Tim was near tears.

There was a shocked silence.

"...so...how are you?" Tim asked.

"_Tim...how long has this been...?"_

"Over a month. At first, I was trying to...Abby and I were trying to...work things out privately, but that just...imploded and...and everything has...it's...I'm feeling really crappy, Mom."

"_I'm sorry, Tim. I'm sorry that things are going so badly. Is there anything we can do?"_

"Not...Not that I can think of right now."

"_Are you and Abby–?"_

"We're not getting a divorce...at least...not right now. I'm...at Ducky's because I needed some...space to think about everything that's happened. He's been really nice about it. Tony and Ziva are trying to apologize for what they thought about me."

"_And Agent Gibbs?"_

"I don't know. I haven't really talked to him since he hit me. Other things on my mind and...and I don't know what to say to him. I don't even know what to _think_. ...but I'm mad about it...and I'm depressed about it...and...I keep hoping it's a nightmare and I can wake up."

"_But it's not."_

"No. It's not."

"_Okay...so what _do_ you want from us? Do you want us to come down there? Do _you_ want to come up here?"_

Tim thought about both options before shaking his head. "No. No, I don't. I can't run away from all this because I won't come back if I do. ...and I don't think there's much I can ask of you right now."

"_Physically?"_

"I'm getting better. I still have headaches and I'm being careful. It's hard to read for long periods of time still, but I'm getting better and my doctor thinks that I'll make a full recovery."

"_Tim, I'm really sorry about all this. No one should have to go through what you're going through."_

"I agree," Tim said and swallowed the lump in his throat. "It sucks."

"_I wish I could be there...if only to give you a hug."_

"I don't think that would fix things."

"_No, but I think you might feel a little better...even if it was only for a few seconds."_

Tim laughed. "Maybe you're right...but for now...I think it's best if you and Dad just stay in Ohio."

"_Okay. You're not alone?"_

"Well, I am right now, but I'm staying with Ducky. He's been really great. I'm not going through it alone."

"_And Agent Gibbs?"_

"I'm staying away from him...for now."

"_But not permanently?"_

"No. I'm going back. I'm not going to let this ruin what I want."

"_Don't mistake false bravado for perseverance, okay?"_

"I won't. I really do want to go back. I want to get back to my life as soon as I can...and NCIS is a big part of that...a part that I can't give up."

"_All right. I'll trust you, but call us more often. You don't have to let us in on everything that's happening with Abby, but don't keep us in the dark. At least about your health."_

Tim smiled. "I won't. I'll keep you in the loop."

"_Good."_

Tim talked with his mother for a few more minutes but then he hung up and sighed. He hated being stuck doing nothing. It just went against the grain for him.

...and his mind wandered back to NCIS.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs didn't show it, but he was more than a bit uncomfortable as he walked up the sidewalk to go back to work. It was ludicrous to think that anyone was unaware of his suspension and the basics of _why_ the suspension had been given. It was hard to face.

Mostly because he didn't know what to expect. He didn't know what to expect from his team. He didn't know what to expect from the other people working there. He didn't know what to expect from Ducky or Abby. He felt as though he was walking into a raging river of unknown depths. He'd either be able to wade across or he'd be dragged under and drown.

Well, he wasn't going to find out which it was if he stayed out here. He'd never shown himself to be discomfitted by any situation before and he wasn't about to start now. With a deep breath, he walked into the building.

"Morning, Henry."

"Back, are you, Agent Gibbs?" Henry asked...not quite as jovial as he usually was.

"Yep."

"Thought you might have been fired."

"Yeah...me, too."

The made Henry look at him again. He seemed to relent slightly.

"Well, you're in the clear."

"Not really, but I'm back at work."

"Well, I don't know that anyone's going to hit _you_." A definite dig. Henry knew.

"Not likely. Might be easier, though." Gibbs headed off to the elevator.

The ride was not nearly long enough...even though he was going up an extra level to Vance's office. When he stepped off the elevator, he didn't look down at the bullpen, but he could feel eyes on him.

When he got into the outer office, Pamela gave him a perfunctory smile and called into the main office. She then nodded.

"You can go right in, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded and opened the door. Vance was there at his desk. He looked up.

"Have a seat, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs sat down and waited without speaking as Vance apparently finished something important. Then, he looked up.

"Welcome back," he said.

"Really?" Gibbs asked.

Vance's expression hardened slightly.

"This is the first of many meetings between you and me, Agent Gibbs. Don't start antagonizing me now. I don't have the patience for it. We are going to go through the process that you and I will be following for the next six months. Hopefully, most of this will be mere routine."

"How is he?" Gibbs asked.

"I haven't seen him for a week or so. He was healing the last time I spoke with him...and we've invited him to our house for dinner...but that's not what this meeting is about, Agent Gibbs. This is about how you are going to get back to work."

Gibbs said nothing...but this time because he genuinely couldn't think of anything to say. Vance didn't dwell on the silence.

"First, you and I will have weekly meetings. At these meetings, we will discuss how you are perceiving your own leadership. I will have to observe you, particularly once Agent McGee returns, but I hope that will be a formality and nothing more."

That last sentence was also a warning. Again, Gibbs said nothing.

"Agent Gibbs?"

"Yes, Director?"

"Do you have _anything_ to add?"

"When will Agent McGee be returning?" he asked.

"That's still uncertain. Another week or so, but when he does return, it will be desk duty only until cleared by his doctor. He also will be unable to drive for the next five months."

"Why?" Gibbs asked, startled by that.

"Because he had a seizure. The law requires that he go seizure-free for six months."

Gibbs swallowed. Vance didn't need to point out that this was his fault. He already knew it.

"I see."

"Do you?" Vance asked.

"Is that everything?" Gibbs asked.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No. We're back on regular duty?"

"Yes. I think Agent Weaver will be relieved to go back to her own team."

Gibbs smiled a little and stood up.

Vance stood as well. "Agent Gibbs?"

"Yes?"

"Your record here at NCIS is good, very good, but make no mistake, you fall out of line again, whether it's as bad as this was or not, you're done. No one is irreplaceable...and you're no exception. If Agent McGee had not expressed his desire to return to work under you, I would have had no problem with firing you. Don't you forget that."

"I won't." Gibbs didn't think it was possible that he could ever forget that he still had his job at NCIS because of Tim's generosity.

"Good. Dismissed."

Gibbs turned around and walked out of the office without looking back. He headed out to the main room and looked down over the bullpen. Tony and Ziva were there now. A few others looked up at him and then looked away. He took a breath and walked down the stairs, showing nothing of his own discomfort.

"Morning," he said gruffly when he got down to his desk.

Tony looked up. "Good morning...Boss," he said awkwardly. "How was the...vacation?"

"Fine."

"I am glad you are back, Gibbs," Ziva said. "I am tired of cold cases."

"Thanks. That's all you've been doing?"

"Yes. Lovitz' team was doing the MCRT duties."

Gibbs nodded and sat down at his desk. It was hard to figure out what to do. He'd never been gone for so long...except during his brief retirement...but he had come back on a happier note.

_How much happier was it for everyone else?_

The question surprised him. He'd never questioned that they were glad to have him back, but then, he looked over at Tony who was staring at his monitor again, and wondered. Tony had been team lead during his absence.

_Was Tony actually _happy_ to have me back? I essentially demoted him...and said nothing about it to him. Ever. He understood. ...didn't he?_

Tony looked up.

"Yeah, Boss?" he asked.

Gibbs just grunted and looked back at the screen. He was saved from having to think of something by Lovitz coming over.

"Hey, Gibbs. Welcome back," he said. "We're in the middle of a case right now, but we're fine with you taking the next one. You need any updates?"

Gibbs almost said no, almost claimed that he could figure it out himself, but that would be a lie...and he could easily admit to needing some help without sounding stupid.

"I'd appreciate that," he said.

Tony and Ziva both looked over at him for a moment and then hid their surprise by staring back at whatever was so interesting on their computers. Gibbs got up and followed Lovitz to one of the conference rooms.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"...and so we're hoping to have a breakthrough once Abby gets through with the analysis. There was a hiccup with the machine yesterday and she had to wait for IT to get to it. Normally, she asks Agent McGee to..."

"Yeah."

Lovitz paused as if debating whether or not to address it.

"That was a real stupid thing you did, Gibbs."

"I know."

"Why? Why do it? You're a lot smarter than that."

"Guess I'm not."

"No. You can't get out of it so easy. You've lost the respect of almost everyone here. That might not bother you, but it should. You're the head of the MCRT at NCIS Headquarters. That carries some responsibility with it, whether you like it or not...more than just the cases. If you don't like it, then you shouldn't have the position you do. People have always looked up to you because you did your job, did it well. Now, you've punched out the least offensive member of your team? No one knows all the details, but they know enough to know that you were _way_ out of bounds."

"I know."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Get back to work."

Lovitz just shook his head, barely _not_ rolling his eyes. "Well, that's all I have, Agent Gibbs. Next case that comes in is yours. You can...get back to work." He turned to leave.

Gibbs swallowed his pride...and it was very hard to do...and Lovitz was nearly out the door before he managed to get rid of it.

"Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"What do _you _suggest I do?"

Lovitz turned back.

"Well...I wouldn't recommend you try to make a speech." He smiled a little.

Gibbs smiled.

"Show that you've learned something, Gibbs. Show us that you're not looking at all this as a slap on the wrist and now things are back to normal. They're not. I know you pride yourself on being able to hide pretty much everything you're feeling. It does you credit in interrogation...but with the people you want on your side...you might want to think about letting some of it out. People will see if you're sincere and they'll know that you're taking this seriously."

"I am."

Lovitz smiled.

"You can't just say it. We have to see it."

"You including yourself?"

"Yeah, I am. Words are easy...even for you. Showing that you've learned something? That's harder...but you've got a shot at convincing me."

Then, he left the room. Gibbs sat at the table and thought about it. He'd known that there'd be some backlash from all this. He just hadn't considered it as being so deeply rooted as Lovitz had shown him it was. More complications...that could so easily have been avoided. Gibbs sighed and got to his feet.

No matter what else was going on here, he did need to get back to work.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Abby sighed to herself as she looked at the bed. She couldn't bring herself to cover up Tim's white cotton pillow cases. She just couldn't do it. All her satin pillows were on the floor, the covers in a mess. She hadn't bothered to make the bed since Tim had left. The only reason she was still sleeping on the bed was because she couldn't bear the thought of the bed being completely empty.

Jethro was starting to really miss Tim. She could see it. Every day when she had come home, he would lick at her...and then look for Tim. Yesterday, he had actually whined when he'd realized that Tim wasn't coming.

The thought brought more tears to Abby's eyes. She couldn't believe how empty her world seemed now that Tim was gone. If she had felt even a particle of doubt that she had loved Tim, it had been banished the constant feeling of anguish and regret she felt.

_I destroyed my perfect world...and I didn't even realize how perfect it was._

All she wanted was to have Tim back with her, back in her life, loving her again, needing her again. ...but this desire was coupled with the realization that Tim himself would only come back when he was ready, when he felt it was safe to do so. It was like when they had been dating, only she hadn't understood, then, just how cautious Tim was being. She hadn't understood the reasons behind it. She had been so willing just to have a good time that she hadn't paid attention to how cautiously Tim had approached their relationship.

It had taken days of complete solitude to force her to understand. It had taken nights of intense loneliness to open her eyes to what she had done, to the real magnitude of what she had done.

Abby almost felt she understood a little of what Tim was going through. Not all. She was the betrayer, not the betrayed, but all these days...she went to work knowing that Tim wouldn't be there. She came home at night knowing she'd be alone.

...and she knew that it was her fault things were the way they were. Yes, it was true that Gibbs' actions had made everything harder for them, but in reality, she couldn't blame Gibbs for her loneliness. There was only one person to blame: Abigail Sciuto McGee.

She had blithely assumed she understood Tim, understood what he thought, how he felt about things. She had assumed that she knew it, not because she had taken the time to figure it all out, but because Tim loved her and she loved him. They had made it through two years of marriage with her thoughtless love. The first test of that love...and she had failed. She had failed because she hadn't bothered to _think_ at all. It was all about her and what she wanted. She didn't even bother to wonder why Tim wasn't answering his phone. She hadn't bothered to consider that something might have happened to him.

She loved Tim and Tim loved her...but in her mind that translated to Tim doing what she wanted and she rewarded him by loving him...and Tim had allowed that to be the way things went.

The thoughts came fast and furious as Abby went upstairs. She washed all the makeup off her face and looked at herself in the mirror. With her hair down and makeup gone, she was just another person. There was nothing particularly special about her...and yet, Tim loved her.

_Do I really love him? _

Yes. Abby was sure, now, that she loved Tim...now, after she had torn his heart to pieces, after he had nearly died, after he had left her alone. Now, she knew. It was like that sentimental song by Stephen Sondheim. The drama club in high school had done _A Little Night Music _once.

"Where are the clowns?" Abby whispered. "Send in the clowns."

Before she started bawling again, there was a knock on the front door. Abby sniffed and took a deep breath and headed downstairs. Jethro looked excited and that almost broke her heart anew...but she sternly told herself to get over herself and she opened the door.

"Abby!"

"Hi, June," she said. "What's up?"

"I was about to ask _you_ that question. I've noticed that Tim hasn't been around for a while. Did something happen?"

Abby was about to lie...and found that she didn't want to.

"Yes...lots of things have happened...and most of them are my fault, June."

June's eyes widened.

"You want to talk about it, dear?"

"It might be too much information."

June smiled. "I had a husband for more than 50 years and raised 6 children, plus fostered another 5. There's not a lot that can happen that'd be considered too much information for an old lady like me."

Abby couldn't help but smile back...but still she hesitated. This was supposed to be private. ...and yet, at the same time, it wasn't in the worst way.

"Come on, dearie," June said. "I think you need a no-nonsense confidant...like me."

"Okay...but it's not a fairytale anymore, June."

June laughed. "Well, of course, it's not. Did you think that fairytales were the way marriages work? If so, you're dreaming. There's a reason fairytales end right after a marriage and they just say that they lived 'happily ever after'. No one wants to read a fairytale that involves Cinderella's difficulties in being accepted by the court because she's a commoner. No one wants to find out that Rose Red began to resent her sister's better fortune simply because she was the less lady-like of the two...and not a blonde. No one wants to see the problem of increased taxes for the shoemaker after his spate of good fortune. We want to believe that love and good conquers all. ...and does so easily without any further conflict. We don't want to know that it doesn't work that way...because we have reality for that. Fantasy...is just fantasy."

"Well...the fantasy is over now," Abby said, feeling teary again.

"All right...so tell me about it."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky heard the knock on the door and was grateful that Tim had decided to go for a walk. If this was another unscheduled appearance by Gibbs, he wanted to have the chance to tell him to call first. He opened the door...and was surprised to see a shame-faced Tony standing on his front steps.

"Anthony...whatever are you doing here?"

Tony smiled...or rather grimaced. "I was hoping to talk to McGee...if he'll talk, although if he wanted to punch me out, I'd let him."

Ducky smiled. "He's out walking right now. I could point you in his general direction, if you like."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea. I should probably...give him a chance to say no."

"You could do so. If he chose to ignore your presence, you would know he did not wish to speak with you."

"True."

"I believe he went in the direction of the Naval Observatory, not that he'd be getting inside."

"What kind of a mood is he in?"

"I dare say about the same as he has been for the last few days. Not particularly happy, struggling to recover his good health, and wondering about his future."

Tony winced. "Man, I feel like the biggest jerk that ever walked the earth."

Ducky laughed slightly. "I doubt you warrant that description, but I would not expect a warm greeting. The best you might get at this moment is wariness...and perhaps some confusion as to why you are here."

"Yeah...that was kind of what I thought."

"It is worth a try, I believe."

"Yeah." Tony took a deep breath and looked in the direction Ducky had indicated. "Well, I'm a glutton for punishment. See you later."

"All right." Ducky closed the door. He hoped that Tony's overtures wouldn't make things worse...although he couldn't really see how that was possible.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony walked down the sidewalk, expecting to turn back with every step he took. He felt as though he were walking to his doom, even though he knew that was stupid. The worst Tim could do was reject his overtures.

_And it's not like I deserve better._

He kept walking. When he got to Dumbarton Oaks Park, he saw a familiar figure.

"Hey...McGee?"

He waited. Tim stopped but didn't turn around for a moment. Tony had almost decided that Tim was going to ignore him after all, but then, Tim turned. He looked at Tony and then clearly resigned himself to talking to him.

"Hey," Tony said again.

"Hi. I got your message."

"I figured you must have."

"I didn't know how to answer it."

"I figured you must have decided not to at all."

Tim shrugged. "I was going to...but I didn't know what to say."

"You want me to leave you alone?"

Tim sighed and walked over to a bench. He sat down and stared at the ground.

"I don't know _what_ I want from you, Tony. I want to be able to look at you and forget that you thought I could beat my wife. I want to be able to go to work someday and have the worst I get from you be another stupid McNickname."

Tony laughed weakly.

Tim smiled at the ground briefly.

"But...I just don't know how I can forget...what you thought of me, Tony. I would almost have preferred if you had thought I was a murderer...because you wouldn't have done that without evidence. Lots of it. But now...you were so sure that you told Gibbs about it. You were so sure..."

"I wasn't sure, McGee," Tony said, sitting beside him. "I thought of it...and then, I couldn't think of anything else. I thought that if I told Gibbs, he would take care of it and I could..._not_ think of it anymore. I was passing the buck because I was too chicken to deal with it myself."

"But _why_ did you think that was even a possibility?" Tim asked, finally looking at him. "I've thought a lot of things of you, but even when you were framed for murder, when everyone thought you were dead...I didn't! ...even when the evidence pointed to it."

"I don't know what to say, McGee. I really don't. There's no good reason for what I thought. There's no good reason for what I did. You were acting different. Abby was acting different...and that's not a good reason. I know you said not to push you and I don't want to. I just..."

"What?"

"I just wanted to say that...it'll be nice to have you back at work. It's not the same."

"It's not going to _be _the same," Tim said. "Not ever."

"All things considered, that's probably a good thing."

"Yeah, maybe." Tim took a deep breath. "Tony...I'm not ready to forgive you yet."

"Does that mean you might be able to sometime?" Tony asked.

A fleeting smile. "Maybe. I don't know. There's so much going on. I don't know how to deal with it all."

"Yeah...I think that's how everyone at NCIS is feeling right now. Gibbs came back to work today...and no one knew how to treat him."

"Does everyone know what happened?"

"Only the broad strokes. You know how scuttlebutt works."

"Yeah."

Tony looked over at Tim...as Tim continued to stare at the ground. He could see the remnants of the bruise from where Gibbs had hit him. He could see the worn look in Tim's eyes that showed how _not_ recovered he was. Tim just looked...defeated, and Tony hated that he had contributed to that look.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry. I mean...I'm probably not as sorry as you are that all this happened, but I'm _really_ sorry that I'm the one who started it."

Tim smiled at the ground again. "You're not the one who started it, Tony."

"Huh?"

"You're not the one who started it. Abby started it when she slept with another man. I continued it when I tried to keep that private. You were just the next link the chain. ...and maybe it's melodramatic, but I feel like I'm being beaten with that chain over and over again."

Tony winced, both at the comparison and at the reminder of what else Tim was dealing with right now.

"So...are you sure you want to come back to NCIS?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Tony asked. "Because...man, Tim, I can't imagine wanting to come back and work with the same people who...did all that to you."

"I'm not going to lose the one thing that I still have from my dream," Tim said, almost fiercely. "I'm not giving NCIS up. If Gibbs can't handle working with me, then _he's_ the one who will have to leave. I'm staying. It's my job, and I can treat it like a job. I've never been part of the NCIS family anyway. I'll just stop wanting it."

Tony opened his mouth to deny it, but his words died in his throat. He could see that Tim wouldn't believe it. To be honest, he wasn't sure _he_ believed it himself.

"I'm sorry," he said instead.

"Sorry for what? That I've finally clued into reality or that you helped me do that?"

Ouch. Another wince. Tony couldn't remember a time when he'd heard so much bitterness in Tim's voice before.

"I'm sorry for that," Tony said, without even realizing he was going to.

"For what?" Tim asked.

"That you...that I helped you become so bitter. I've never seen that in you before...and I'm sorry that I contributed to it. Really sorry."

Tim lifted his head and looked at Tony, surprise in his expression.

"You're the one who's said time and again that I'm not in touch, Tony. Why should you be sorry that I've finally caught up?"

"Because...I've...kind of...envied your outlook."

Tim looked at him for a moment longer and then looked away, but not before Tony noticed the tears in his eyes.

"Well, I don't have it anymore. You'll have to find someone else to envy. I don't think I have anything to be jealous about right now."

"And you still want to work with us?"

"Yes. You're good at your job."

"Just not at being your friend."

"I hope you're not expecting me to disagree."

"No."

"Good."

They sat side by side on the bench for a few minutes and then Tony had to ask the question most on his mind.

"McGee?"

"Yeah?"

"When you come back to work, do you want us to leave you alone?"

"In what respect? If we're in a gun fight, I'd hope you wouldn't."

Tony smiled a little. "We wouldn't. But when we get lunch or go to the bar after work, stuff like that...do you want us to leave you alone then? Or do you want us to keep inviting you along?"

Tim was quiet for a few seconds and then took a deep breath.

"Leave me alone. If I ever feel like I can hang out with you, I'll let you know...if you actually want that."

"Okay."

Tim stood up and started walking back toward Ducky's. Tony walked beside him, but neither of them spoke. It was more like two complete strangers who happened to have the exact same pace. When they got to the door, Tim walked up the stairs and then turned back.

"Thanks for asking, Tony."

"You're welcome."

Then, Tim went inside without looking back. Tony sighed. He'd known that Tim might not be any happier to see him than he had been before, but it really bugged him to know that Tim had suffered so much because of his choices.

For now, however, he figured the best thing he could do was to do what Tim asked of him, i.e. leave him alone.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"...and Gibbs was back at work today, but I don't even want to talk to him...but what I did is so much worse than what he did...and...and I just don't what to do anymore, June!" Abby said. She was crying, but her tears were much less theatrical than they had been.

"What about Tim?" June asked.

"He won't come back until he trusts me again. I don't want to try and force him or anything. I don't deserve to have him back."

"Has he asked for a divorce?"

Abby shook her head. "No. But he's gone. It's probably only going to be a matter of time...and I'll lose him forever."

"Is that what you want?"

"No!" Abby said, sniffling. "I don't! I love him...so much...even though it's my fault he's gone!"

June smiled. "Did you ever think that maybe he might _want_ you to fight for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that from what you've said, Tim has done a lot of the compromising. He's been the one who has lost and lost...even to the point of the being the one to leave your home. Now, he's tired of being the one fighting for the marriage. Maybe he wants you to do some of the fighting now. I could be wrong, but if you want your marriage to make it, you have to exert some effort...effort that you don't seem to have exerted before."

"But he asked me to let him leave!"

"Yes, and it's probably good that you did, but if you don't want to lose him permanently, you'll have to make some changes...and you'll have to fight for him."

"I don't know what to do!"

"Well, I'm not sure I know either. Tim is _your_ husband, Abby. You should know him better than anyone else does. When has Tim been the happiest? What moments? What times, beyond this one, has he seemed the most put out or the most saddened? You need to learn who your husband is...and then fight to keep him. It may not work. I've seen a lot of people who can't last beyond infidelity."

Abby ducked her head in shame.

"...but there are those who do...if changes are made. The situation that made you feel that was acceptable behavior can't be repeated. The attitude that justified it to you can't remain. You have to change that. Do you understand?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

June smiled. "Good. That's a good start."

"What is?"

"Not being instantly certain that you know best. You can feel free to talk to me anytime. You should know that I can be discreet."

"I do."

"Then, I'll leave you to think about it, and if you need some extra comfort, come on over anytime."

Abby wiped her eyes. "Thanks, June. ...for not hating me."

"I'm sad that you made the choice you did, Abby...but I hope that you can both recover from it."

June stood up and made her way out of the house. Abby sat where she was and looked at Jethro who seemed rather morose.

"Jethro?"

He lifted his head from his position by the door.

"Maybe...maybe tomorrow, you can go and see Tim for a while...if he doesn't mind. Would you like that?"

At the mention of Tim's name, Jethro perked up and looked around. Abby sniffled again but she smiled a little.

She made herself some dinner and then walked into the study. She hadn't really gone in there since Tim had left. It was his room, pretty much the only place in the house where his tastes reigned...and she was suddenly struck by how different it was. It seemed...dull...and yet, it wasn't because whenever Tim was in there, she had never noticed it being uninteresting. It was a study, full of books, Tim's record player, his typewriter. It was as if everything that made Tim who he was had been confined to that one room. It was the same with their bedroom. Tim's pillows were hidden away in lieu of what Abby deemed good decor.

Maybe this was a place to start. It was minor and kind of simple, but it was something. Abby walked over to Tim's typewriter and sat down. Carefully, she rolled in a piece of paper and started to type out everything she could remember about when they had discussed the decorations for the house.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Another week passed, and Tim tried to decide what he was going to do, how he was going to deal with everything that was going on. Abby had come over and brought Jethro...who had been overjoyed to see him. He and Abby hadn't really talked much, but she had surprised him by saying that he should take the time he needed and when he was ready to talk to her again, she would be waiting.

It was a moment, almost of shock. Abby had not been frenetic, full of apologies or crying. Clearly, she was still devastated, but so much calmer that Tim had been tempted to ask who she was and what she had done with his wife. However, the situation didn't allow for that kind of flippancy.

Then, she had left. Jethro had stayed, giving Tim company during the day. Even though the company was only a dog, Tim was grateful for it...but it was bringing something more to his mind...especially as the date for his possible return to NCIS came closer. No matter what he'd said to Tony, to Ducky, to his mother...he was worried about going back, and as the date loomed in his mind, he began to feel extremely tense...and he was too close to everything here. He needed an escape, even a short one. A total and complete break from everything that had caused him grief. He could go to his parents' home and stay there until the weekend...if they were willing to come and get him. For the millionth time, he cursed the fact that he couldn't drive. It was so frustrating.

He decided to wait and talk to Ducky about it. Ducky was really good at giving advice and Tim had come to trust him. Trust was pretty thin on the ground right now; so anyone he _could_ trust, Tim was ready to.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby looked at her wallpaper. It was Tim. A picture of him. It was her favorite from their wedding. He'd been very self-conscious with most of the poses the photographer had wanted for them. The photographer had tried and tried to get Tim to relax, but all the things he had done without any consideration when they were just together had become painful when trying to document them. Abby had laughed a lot. She was never self-conscious and nothing could spoil the perfection of the wedding day.

Finally, the photographer had gone back to his truck, ostensibly to get a different camera. Tim sat down on a bench, unconsciously undoing the bowtie on the tux.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Abby walked over to the bench. Luckily, her dress was really comfortable, but still, it was getting hot, and she had to wear it until after the dinner and reception. They both wanted the pictures to be done._

"_Tim?"_

_Tim sighed. "I thought actually getting married would be the most stressful part of this whole day. Who knew that pictures would be so terrifying?"_

"_You just need to relax!"_

"_I'm just not very photogenic, Abbs. Not like you. You're gorgeous. I'm in a monkey suit...and I can't relax with him snapping pictures every second!"_

_Abby reached out and touched Tim's cheek._

"_You're totally photogenic, Tim! You look great...and you always do. Just forget the photographer and focus on me! I should be loads more interesting than the photographer."_

"_Gladly...if he puts his camera away."_

_Tim covered her hand with his. After a moment, he pulled it to his lips and kissed her palm. Photographer forgotten, Abby tried to pull Tim to his feet. He got a mischievous look in his eyes and he pulled her down onto his lap._

_Abby laughed and pretended to hit him with her bouquet. Tim laughed, too, and plucked the flowers from her hands, tossing it over his shoulder._

"_Hey! That's an expensive bunch of flowers you just threw!"_

"_They're just flowers. You're much more important."_

_Abby smiled but then saw the serious look in Tim's eyes and stopped playing. He pulled her close and kissed her._

"_I'll remember you like this forever, Abby," he whispered as he kissed her shoulder. "No matter what happens in the future, you'll always be as beautiful to me as you are right at this moment."_

"_I love you, Tim."_

_Finally, they both became conscious of the faint, incessant clicking. Tim looked over Abby's shoulder and saw the photographer grinning like a fool._

"_Hey!" Tim protested._

"_These will be the best pictures I've ever taken," he said, unapologetically._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

He had been right...to Abby at least. The pictures from those few moments when Tim had been completely relaxed and unaware of the camera were the best pictures. The picture she had on her computer right now was a closeup of Tim kissing the palm of her hand, his eyes closed, the dark ring on his finger showing against the white background of her dress. It was such an intimate image. Abby loved it and now, she looked at it...and wondered if Tim still thought the same as he had that day.

"I miss you so much, Tim," she whispered.

...but it was only a picture and this Tim couldn't answer her. It was a representation of someone, not reality.

"That is a lovely picture, Abby. I do not believe I have ever seen it."

Abby jumped and turned around. She'd been so wound up in her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard the doors open.

"Ziva!"

"I am sorry if I startled you. Is that from your...wedding?"

Abby looked back. "Yeah. It's my favorite picture. Didn't you ever see them?"

Ziva smiled. "McGee was not likely to show us his wedding pictures. Tony would have..." She trailed off.

"...teased him," Abby finished. "You want to see? They're the best ones. Much better than the posed pictures with everyone else."

"Yes. I would like that."

Abby couldn't believe no one had ever seen them. She loved these pictures. Tim had agreed that they were much better than the others, but for some reason, they hadn't ever shown them off anywhere. Why not? She pulled them up on her computer and for the next few minutes just showed off the pictures. Tim and Abby on their wedding day. Abby's white dress (with black accents), her bouquet of red and black roses. Tim in his tuxedo (one of the few times he'd put his foot down. No red cummerbund.). The two of them happy and in love.

"Those are lovely. Why have you never put any of them up?"

"I don't know. I can't think why."

They were both silent for a moment, staring at the last photo. Tim was holding Abby close and kissing her bare shoulder. Abby felt the tears coming close to the surface again. She closed the slide show and took a deep breath.

"You came down here for something?"

Ziva cleared her throat. "Yes. Gibbs would like to know if there were any abnormalities in the blood samples from the Simmons case."

Gibbs hadn't come into the lab once since his return to NCIS.

"Yeah, it's a regular pharmacy," Abby said, forcing herself back onto her work. "He didn't skimp on anything. He must have had deep pockets to afford it all."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony was looking at his computer monitor when Gibbs came down from his meeting with Vance. He took a breath. He'd been thinking about this for a few days and he felt that it was necessary, but he didn't want to do it. Talking to Gibbs had been something that hadn't really happened since Gibbs had come back. Conversations had been confined to grunts and a few exchanges of work information. The strain of knowing what had happened, what they both had done...it had led to a desire to avoid interactions beyond what was necessary. In fact, since Gibbs had been back, the bullpen, in general, had been much quieter.

Gibbs sat down at his desk and started working without a word. Ziva was down with Abby. Tony hadn't been down there much either, and Ziva was the least offensive member of the MCRT at the moment.

Tony took a deep breath and stood up. He walked over to Gibbs.

"Boss?"

He couldn't swear to it, but Tony thought he saw a look of relief on Gibbs' face.

"Yeah?"

"We need to talk...in your office."

Gibbs nodded and stood up. He even allowed Tony to lead the way. As they headed for the elevator, Tony thought he could feel the eyes of the others in the bullpen on them. He ignored that.

Once on the elevator, he sent it moving and then stopped it.

"What's on your mind, Tony?" Gibbs asked.

"Quite a bit actually, Boss."

"You want to be a bit more specific?"

"Yeah, I do. How long is this going to last?"

"What?"

"This...this tension at work. And don't bother acting like you haven't noticed it. It's there. We get more scrutiny from everyone else on the floor. We're not comfortable with each other. You don't go down to talk to Abby anymore. Really, only Ziva goes now. What about when McGee comes back? This is going to break us apart if you can't figure it out."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Tony said and steeled himself to say what essentially boiled down to a lecture. "Boss, you and me...we screwed up more than anyone else here...but you're the lead. You're the one in charge. You're...you're the _boss_! We take our cues from you and you're trying to...I don't know what you're trying to do, but it's not working! We can't just get on with things as if it didn't happen! It happened, Boss! It _all_ happened. What are you going to do about it?"

There was a typical Gibbs silence...but what came next was _not_ typical Gibbs.

"I don't know, Tony."

Tony didn't know what to say. It wasn't what he had expected. Gibbs wasn't supposed to _not_ know. He was supposed to have some secret plan, something that just hadn't kicked in yet. He leaned back against the wall.

"Boss...what are we going to do? It can't go on like this...not for much longer." He hadn't planned on saying this, but it came out. "...and I don't want to lose our team, Boss. We've been a team for so long...and we screwed it up. We need to rebuild it. _I_ don't know what to do, but we have to do something."

"You're right. We do...but I don't know what the solution is, Tony."

"How do we find the answer?"

Gibbs actually smiled a little. "Don't know that either...but it'll take some time."

"We have a deadline of some kind, you know."

"Yeah...but what is it?"

"I don't know." Tony hesitated. "Have you...talked to McGee?"

"No. Not the time for it yet."

"When _will_ be, Boss? If McGee is coming back here, and he told me he was, you'll need to talk to him."

"I know that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Boss...I'm afraid that everything is going to fall apart."

Finally, Gibbs took control of the conversation...much to Tony's relief.

"Tony, it already has. You can't keep that from happening because it did. It happened weeks ago. All we can do is try to rebuild."

"_Can_ we?"

"Try? Yeah. Succeed? Don't know yet."

Tony didn't feel much better.

"I...expected more," he said.

Gibbs laughed a little. "Hate to tell you, DiNozzo, but I'm not perfect. You should have realized that already."

"I know, but..."

"I can't fix everything, Tony. I'll try to do what I can, but I can't promise anything...because I can't control anyone else."

The simple statement startled Tony more than he had expected. He just wasn't used to Gibbs not knowing something and Gibbs not being totally in control of everything and every_one_ around him. He wasn't sure he liked it...but it was Gibbs being completely honest and that was also a change.

Gibbs reached out and turned back on the elevator.

"Thanks, Tony," he said.

The doors opened and Gibbs walked back to his desk. Tony stared at him for a while and then took a breath and went to his own desk.

Back to work.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Ducky was surprised to find Tim sitting on the front steps when he got back from work that evening. Jethro was sitting patiently beside him. It wasn't the most happy image in the world, but Tim seemed more...lost than depressed, and, as ambivalent as that emotion was, it was infinitely better than the defeated look he'd been wearing for the last few weeks.

"Timothy, I'm surprised to see you out here."

"Just...thinking."

"About what?"

Tim sighed. Ducky sat beside him.

"Am I making a mistake?" he asked.

"In what respect?"

"Going back to NCIS...going back to the team. Should I be doing something different?"

"Well...that's really not for me to say, Timothy. It's _your_ life."

"Yeah...but...what I choose will affect so many people. I need to make the right choice."

"True, but you can't determine your future based only on others. You have to decide what will be best for you as well."

"...but I don't know anymore, Ducky. I don't _know_ what's best."

"Why not?"

"Because...because they're not all bad."

Ducky chuckled slightly. "Of course, they're not, lad."

"But I still can't forgive them."

"You don't have to."

"But I wish I could...but it's just too much to forgive, Ducky. Every time I think about what's happened, I feel like...like I can't breathe for all that's going on." Tim leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "I want to go back to work, but I don't know...I don't know if I can..." Tim shook his head slowly. "I don't know if I can face them all...right now. When I haven't really dealt with it myself."

"You've not expressed any concern at all up to this point about going back to work, Timothy. What brought this on?"

"I've just...been thinking...and trying to be realistic. I'm on the verge of spending the bulk of every day with the people I've been actively avoiding for the last few weeks...mostly...Gibbs. Am I really ready to go back and work under the person who could have killed me?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"I've been sitting here all afternoon trying to decide that...but deep down...Ducky, I'm not ready. I'm not ready to work with Gibbs again. I'm not ready to see Abby every day. ...but I don't know what to do to _be_ ready. What I _want_ is to run away. Just...get away from everyone and everything here."

"Why don't you?"

"Because...I can't."

"Why?" Ducky asked.

"Because...Because that would...be giving in."

"Giving in to what?" Ducky asked, very gently.

"To what...what happened. I'd be...giving in to the idea that my life has been totally screwed up by this _crap_. I'd be giving in and letting _my_ life get ruined while everyone else just gets to coast along in the same lives they had before, just without me there. And Ducky...it's not _fair_ that I have to be the one to suffer for all this! I didn't do anything wrong! Abby did! Gibbs did! Tony did! I didn't! Why am _I_ the one who has to suffer for it?"

"It sounds like you're angry, Timothy."

"I _am_!" Tim burst out and surged to his feet. It was the first real show of anger he'd expressed and Ducky found that he was relieved. With all that had happened, it didn't make sense that he didn't feel _some_ anger, and Ducky had been worried that Tim would simply repress it all and let it fester. "Don't I have a _right_ to be angry? My wife slept with another man...and _I'm_ the one who moved out...but it was really her house anyway. She couldn't even let my _pillows_ be seen. She picked the house. She picked the decorations. And now she's picked how many men she wants to sleep with. Can you imagine if _I_ had been the one who had been unfaithful? Can you imagine? I would never have heard the end of it. I would never have been forgiven and everyone at NCIS would have made _my_ life just as miserable as it is now until I felt like I had to quit. Because the golden girl had been hurt. But no, that's not what happens when it's me. I'm supposed to forgive and forget...because... When it's me, I must be hurting Abby, insulting Abby...to the point that my boss, who has _never_ had any reason to doubt who I am, decides to lure me to where he is so he can punch me out...because I _deserve_ it! And if I'd been the one who had cheated on Abby...he probably would have done the same thing! It doesn't matter whether I'm the villain or the victim...the result is the same, Ducky! And it's not fair! And I _am_ angry! Isn't this something that deserves a little bit of anger?"

Tim was breathing heavily as he finished his rant. He looked down at the ground, clearly a bit embarrassed by his outburst. Ducky stood up and directed Tim inside. He didn't speak as he indicated that Tim should sit down. He made some more of the lemon tea that he'd brewed before and served it for both of them. He then gestured for Tim to drink.

"To answer your question, lad, yes, you have the right to be angry. As a matter of fact, I've been wondering when you would be willing to acknowledge that the anger existed. It's eminently logical that you would feel angry and betrayed. You've not been allowing it all this time, at least not to any significant degree, and that can be dangerous."

"Dangerous? How?" Tim asked.

"One of the strengths you've possessed is a certain degree of what one might call...innocence...perhaps idealism is a better word for it."

"Naivety?" Tim mumbled, staring at his cup.

"No. Not naivety," Ducky said firmly. "What you have been confronted with in the past few weeks has battered and broken down some of that innocence. Idealists run the risk of becoming bitter cynics when the world hits them unexpectedly. That is the risk you run by hiding from your anger. Clearly, you don't want that anger to consume you, but expressing it is important. It helps you work through it and deal with what has happened."

"Yeah?" Tim asked, scoffing a bit. "Then, why is it that I feel worse now than I did before?"

"Because you're fully looking at everything for the first time, realizing the potential."

"Potential for what? I've been on the receiving end the whole time."

"Yes, and I don't think you've realized it yet, but you hold all the cards now, Timothy."

Tim looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. Clearly, you haven't realized it...but it's true. The ball is your court. You hold all the cards. It's your call. Everything."

"I don't understand."

Ducky smiled. "Then, let me explain it. When you choose to go back to NCIS, _you_ will set the tone for everyone there. Currently, Jethro is not held in high esteem because of the rumors that have made the rounds. However, he is treading lightly and has made some progress with them. When you come back to work under him again, if you show resentment, the others at NCIS will follow your lead. You are the injured party...literally, and even if they don't know all that happened, they will be on your side. If you come and show Jethro only respect, the other employees will do the same. So you will have to decide what exactly you want to be the status quo at work."

Tim's eyes were wide. He had never considered it, not at all. It was written all over his face. Ducky knew this was a shock, but Tim needed to become aware of how much power he had over his own life, instead of feeling like he had no say in what happened. That feeling of helplessness would only fuel his bitterness.

"And that's not all."

"It isn't?" Tim asked faintly.

"No. Your marriage. It's also entirely up to you. Abigail is beginning to understand what has happened. She has spoken to me and she has shown some...maturity. If you wish to give up on your marriage, it is your call. Abigail loves you. I know you love her, but the two of you have to evaluate if that is enough. I believe it was Ann Landers who would give the advice to those whose spouses had cheated on them. She told them to ask themselves a question. Are you better off with your spouse or without your spouse? You need to decide because love wasn't enough to stop this from happening. Do you have more than love? And as the injured party, it is your choice to make."

Tim looked back down at his cup and took a deep breath.

"I'm telling you this because, Timothy, you need to realize that you're not so helpless as you think. You don't have to sit back and take it. In fact, you _can't_! No one is going to take possession of your right to choose here. Not Jethro. Not Abigail. Not Anthony. Not even me. It must be your choice. If you're not ready to go back and create the environment that you want to have prevail, then don't go back yet. You're not required. Director Vance is willing to be lenient as you know."

"So...what do I do, Ducky?" Tim asked.

"That is for you to decide, Timothy. You have the choice. You have the options. ...and you have the power to make the decision you wish to make."

"I..." Tim laughed a little. "...I still don't know what to do."

"Do you realize that your uncertainty is a decision in and of itself?"

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't feel ready to go back, if you don't know what to do about it, then, you've already decided that you can't go back yet. The only real decision you have to make is what you're going to do to pass the time until you _are_ ready."

"Do I have to decide now?"

"Of course not. The important thing is that you know it is up to you to make the decision. You're not at the mercy of anyone else at this moment."

Tim nodded.

"Now, I am in need of nourishment, and I'm certain you are as well. I'll make dinner and you can take some time to digest your situation."

Tim chuckled a little at the pun.

Ducky left him sitting at the table and returned to the kitchen. It was a lot to think about and Ducky rather thought that Tim would be thinking for a while. The important thing was not the time it took, but that he was actually thinking about it.

Dinner was fairly simple, and they didn't talk much, but near the end of the meal, Tim looked at Ducky.

"I didn't realize I was so mad."

"It's a good thing to be aware of."

Tim managed a half smile. "I didn't really...think I was so bothered about the house. It was a good house. We love our neighbors. I don't mind where we live."

"Then, what bothers you?"

Tim considered for a moment.

"It was...the way Abby got her way," he said finally. "Instead of just talking to _me_ about it, hashing it out between us, she told everyone else and got them to put the pressure on me about it. It wasn't a decision we made together. It was one that...that was forced on me."

"And the decorations?"

"Well, I have the study as my place, and I made sure we got a real bed instead of the coffin."

"Something in you apparently is bothered by that."

"I knew what Abby was like when I proposed to her, Ducky. She has to get her way in a lot of things. I just made sure that the things that were important to me weren't unilateral."

"And then gave in on everything else? Lost the chance to decide? That's no way to participate in a marriage, Timothy...and at least a part of you is aware of that fact."

Tim smiled ruefully.

"I shouldn't have said that about her, though. It was...nasty. I don't want to _be_ that way, Ducky."

"I'm sure you don't. Which is why you need to work through the anger and betrayal you feel. Perhaps it would be easier to do so with the help of a professional."

"A shrink?"

"It's possible. Sometimes, having a listening ear is useful."

"You've been great, Ducky."

Ducky grinned. "And yet, I'm not a trained professional. My area of expertise lies in the criminal mind, not in the lover's mind."

"The Vances...they said that they went to a therapist for a while, but what they learned was that they needed to talk to and listen to each other. If that's all there is to it, I don't need a shrink to tell me that. I'm just trying to..."

"...get to a point where you feel you can?"

"Yeah."

"A therapist might help you in that regard. It's not required, Timothy. Not at all. I'm just trying to give you options. If you'd like, I can ask for recommendations from people I know in the field. If not, that's fine as well."

Tim took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. "I think...that I need to...to walk around...and think."

"I'll clear up dinner. You go ahead."

Tim got up and walked to the door and then stopped and turned around.

"Ducky?"

"Yes, lad?"

"You said that I need to basically stick up for myself more...but you're stepping aside and letting me take over your home. How is that any different?"

"Because, Timothy, I'm doing so, knowing that it's not a permanent situation, and I'm doing it out of concern for a friend. If you overstep your bounds, I know that I will speak up. Would you do the same were our situations reversed?"

Tim didn't reply. He just took another deep breath and walked out. More to think about, but hopefully, Tim's declaration that he needed to think would be fulfilled by some genuine thinking, not just the round and round that he'd been engaging in thus far.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby looked at the room. It wasn't much yet, but it was a start. Even if the house still felt cavernous and empty, she hoped that this was some kind of progress...something she could use to _show_ Tim she was learning.

She still had her red satin pillows. She preferred satin to cotton, but now, she'd mixed the white cotton in with the red, and she found she liked the effect. Both colors popped. She and Tim had received a lovely duvet in a classic style. Not Goth, no satin. It was a rich red color with beautiful swirls. Tim had loved it, but Abby had declared it not edgy enough and it had been stored in the closet. Now, she laid it out over the bed. Black satin sheets. Her pillows. Tim's pillows...and the duvet. It looked nice. Why had she not even been willing to _try_ it before?

"Because it's my way or nothing," Abby whispered.

She sat down on the bed and faced the wall. ...and the pictures she'd put up. Some of those amazing pictures from the wedding. She'd kept the posed picture they'd both agreed on, but then, she'd framed one that she liked best and the one she remembered Tim liking the most. What surprised her was how often she remembered now that Tim _had_ expressed an opinion but had never pushed it after she had disregarded it in favor of her own.

This was only one room in the house, but what surprised Abby the most was that the mix of Tim's conservative style and her own Goth style really worked well together...and she had never bothered to try it before.

"One room down," she said to herself.

She thought about calling Tim and telling him what she was doing, but decided to wait until she had more to show him. She felt like this was teaching her something and she wanted to see how far the lessons would go.

"I think I'll do the living room next," she said and went downstairs.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Tim took Jethro with him on his walk...and he walked for a long time. Thinking...mostly about his sudden surge of anger and what Ducky had told him about letting the anger out. He suddenly realized that he'd been hiding from Gibbs because he was so angry at him as much as because he was worried. He decided that this was the time to talk to him, now when he could still escape from him if he felt the need...not when he was working with him again.

Decision made, Tim went back to Ducky's place, dropped Jethro off and took transit over to Gibbs' house. Ducky could have taken him, but Tim didn't want Ducky offering any advice this time. He wanted this to be what _he_ felt.

...and he felt angry.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The ride over was just long enough that he started questioning his decision. When he got off the bus and started walking down the seemingly-long block, he began to wonder what he'd do, what he'd say. How in the world he'd be able to look Gibbs in the eye after what had happened.

He saw Gibbs' house and thought that maybe he wouldn't even be there. What would he do then? It would be kind of a letdown.

He walked up the sidewalk and paused for a moment before knocking on the door.

There was no answer for a few seconds, and Tim was about to leave.

Then, a light came on and he heard footsteps coming to the door. Illogically, Tim was suddenly afraid that Gibbs would open the door and hit him again. He knew that was incredibly unlikely. The impetus for that unjustified action had long since been removed.

...but it didn't stop him from tensing up as the door opened.

For a moment, Gibbs just stared at him. He seemed really surprised to see Tim standing there.

"McGee..."

"Hi...Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded at Tim's obvious avoidance of calling him "Boss".

Tim was still angry, but Gibbs' un-Gibbs-like behavior, i.e. no terse questions, no clipped responses...just a silence that was different from the usual Gibbs silence...it kept Tim from laying into him like he had wanted to.

Gibbs stood aside and gestured for Tim to come inside. Tim did...mostly because, now, he didn't know what else to do. He had expected something that would help him get going...because Gibbs often had made him frustrated in the past. Why now, when it would be useful, was he acting so strangely?

"What brings you here, McGee?" Gibbs asked. "Ducky said you weren't ready to talk to me yet."

"I...won't be coming back next week," Tim blurted out...even if he hadn't really decided it consciously until that very moment.

Gibbs blinked at him, looking surprised.

"Why not?"

"I'm not...ready to...to work with you."

"Okay."

There was a long silence and Tim couldn't figure out what to say or do. This wasn't what he'd expected. It wasn't what he _wanted_ truth be told. Gibbs was being way too amenable...and Tim was angered by that. A part of him knew that was ridiculous, but he wasn't in the mood to be reasonable. He wanted to yell at Gibbs and it was hard to do that when Gibbs was being so...so _feeble_.

"That's it?" Tim asked. "You do your best to ruin my life? You nearly kill me? I tell you that I'm not ready to work for you again...and all you can say is 'okay'?"

"What do you _want_ me to say, McGee?"

"'Sorry' might be nice...even if apologizing for your complete betrayal seems a bit light. You could try apologizing for the fact that you attacked me for no reason other than that you always assume that Abby is right and I'm wrong. You've punished me for what Abby did more than once...because Abby is your little darling who can do no wrong. ...only _this_ time, you didn't even give _her_ a chance to say anything. You flew off the handle without any rational reason. You _hit_ me, Gibbs! You attacked me! ...and you did it even though I've _never_ given you any reason to think that I'd do what you thought I did. What Abby and I are dealing with is hard enough without this thrown in."

"I'm sorry."

Gibbs was still being so strangely amenable...so...meek.

"...or were you hoping that we'd fall apart?" Tim suddenly asked. It wasn't even something he'd considered before, but now, with everything so off-balance, anything seemed possible. "I never got the sense that you were happy with me for marrying Abby. After all, we were breaking your rule. Her parents were happy enough...but you never were. Did you want to kill me, Gibbs? Were you hoping I'd die? You'd get Abby back. The strange interloper in NCIS would be gone."

"No, McGee," Gibbs said softly. "I never wanted any of that."

"But I didn't belong, did I. I never belonged. You want everyone to need you and I didn't. I was happy with my own family. I didn't need another one...and that meant I wasn't really a part of your team." Tim laughed. "I used to want that. I used to look at how you treated the others and I wondered what it was I was doing wrong, why, after all the years I'd been on your team, why was it that I was still stuck on the outside, looking in at everyone else." He took a breath and shook his head. "But now...now, it doesn't matter. Now, I don't care. I can finally see reality. If I was ever a part of this exclusive club, you would never have treated me like you did. I'm just an employee, not someone you know, not someone you see as a human being. I'm your employee."

"McGee..."

"I am," Tim interrupted. "And that's all I'm going to be. I don't care about trying to figure you out anymore. You're not worth it. When I feel that I can work under you again, I'll come back and you won't have to worry about me trying to be anything more than your employee. I'm not going to bother. I will give you the respect you deserve as my boss, and you can take me to task if I don't, but you won't have to suffer through any lame attempts on my part to be something I can never be. You can go back to enjoying your time with Tony and Ziva and Abby. You don't have to feel guilty, not that I think you ever did. I'll have plenty to deal with trying to fix my marriage...if it's even possible. I don't need to deal with you, too."

Gibbs said nothing and Tim turned away to leave...but then, he stopped. He spoke, but facing the door rather than facing Gibbs.

"Director Vance invited me into his home. It was a bit awkward, but he did it and treated Abby and me really well. His wife came over to my house and talked to me one day. It took so little effort on their part and I felt like there was someone at NCIS, besides Ducky and Jimmy, who liked me for myself, who cared about _me_, not just about what I could do there. One dinner and I was more a part of their circle than I have been in the years I've been working for you. The difference... It's almost painful to see it."

There was another silence and Tim started toward the door.

"I'm sorry it got this far, McGee."

Tim stopped again.

"You're the one who pushed it here. We wouldn't be here if you hadn't hit me."

"I know." Gibbs sighed. "I wish I could change it."

Tim turned around and faced him one last time.

"I wish you could, too. ...but you can't."

Then, he walked out of the house, feeling more depressed than vindicated...but more sure than ever that he wasn't ready to go back to NCIS. ...because he _did_ want to be able to treat Gibbs with the respect due a superior, and he couldn't do that with how he felt now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ducky was wondering where Tim had gone to. He was actually ready to go and look for him when the front door opened. The heavy tread told him that Tim wasn't in a better mood than he had been before.

"Timothy?"

Tim came in and sat down heavily in a chair.

"Where have you been?"

"Talking to Gibbs."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wish I hadn't."

"Why? What did he do?"

"Nothing. He didn't really say very much at all."

Ducky sat down and gestured for Tim to elaborate. Tim shrugged.

"I told him how I felt...and that I wouldn't be bothering trying to be anything other than his employee...and I said that I wasn't ready to come back and work for him yet. He said he was sorry."

"And?"

"And...it's not really enough...but I wish it was. He seemed to mean it...but it's so little...so late...and it doesn't change reality."

Ducky smiled. "It doesn't _have_ to change reality. But it _can_ be a start to creating a _new_ reality."

Tim smiled sadly. "You make it sound so much better than it feels to me."

"Well, I think you're in a pessimistic mood, Timothy."

Tim laughed.

"I told him I wasn't going back next week. I'm going to...talk to Vance and then...go away for a few days."

"Where to?"

"I don't know. Just...away. I was going to go to see my family...but they'd want to ask questions...and even if they didn't say anything, I'd feel like I had to explain. So...I'm just going to go and try and relax a little bit."

"That sounds like a good idea."

Tim chuckled. "Are you going to agree with everything I say, Ducky?"

Ducky smiled in reply. "Only if I actually agree."

"I feel like I'm running away from my problems."

"You are...but that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"Feels like it is."

"It's not. You're trying to deal with everything too quickly. You need the chance to address the issues at your leisure...without even me to advise you. You're more than capable of at least _thinking_ of these things on your own...and you might benefit from escaping the problems for a time. It may give you the chance to regain your resolve...or even to change it should you decide that would be best."

Tim leaned forward and ran his hands over his head. His hair was shorter than it had been. After his surgery, he hadn't liked the patch; so he had decided to cut the rest of his hair really short. That way, it could all grow back together.

"I really..._really_ just want this to be over, but I don't know how to make it over. I don't know even what the best ending would be. I just know that...that I hate this. I hate that I want to forgive them all, but I don't feel like I can."

Ducky stood up and walked over to Tim, squeezing his shoulder.

"Then, take a few days, Timothy. Don't force it. I keep telling you that there isn't a specific timeline. You can take the time you need. Take it, Timothy."

Tim nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to Director Vance tomorrow."

"Good."

Tim took a deep breath and stood up.

"Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

"It's alright to be upset even now."

"Good..." Tim said and his voice got thick. "...because I am."

"After you speak to Director Vance, I would recommend that you choose where you'll go and then go there. Don't start questioning your decision."

Tim smiled. "Okay...because I want to do this...but I don't think I should...want to."

"You should. Go."

"Okay."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

_Three days later..._

Tim zipped up his bag and took a breath. Then, he walked into the bathroom to grab his shaving cream and lotion (the lotion he would deny using). He paused and looked at himself in the mirror. He still didn't look very great in his own estimation. The bruise was almost gone, but he didn't care much for the gaunt look that had resulted from his injury and subsequent hospitalization. He wasn't quite so brittle as he had been, and the headaches were fading, thankfully. He just still looked like someone who'd been through the ringer...and he didn't _want_ to look like that. He had a look that would incite pity...and he didn't want pity. Sympathy? Maybe. Not pity. He was tired of pity.

With a deep breath, he left the bathroom, collected Jethro, and left Ducky's house. There was a taxi waiting to take him back to his house.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby looked around the living room. This was so much harder to change than the bedroom...mostly because, in the bedroom, she could remember all the stuff they'd got to decorate that she'd simply forced Tim to hide away.

In the living room...it was all her stuff, her style. They had bought the stuff together, and she honestly couldn't remember what Tim might have suggested at the furniture stores.

There hadn't been many alterations yet, but she had taken a day off work just to sit in here and figure it out...and besides, it had given Tim a chance to drop Jethro off. That thought unexpectedly made her throat tighten. It almost felt like sharing custody...even if it _was_ of a dog.

"No. Focus, Abby. You have to get this figured out. You have to think of Tim first."

She sniffled and got off the couch. It was a very dark room. Black leather couches from her old apartment. Even the bookshelves, she now noticed had mostly her books...not that Tim didn't like her books, but his were mostly in the study that had his typewriter and his other stuff. The one thing, though, that she _was_ sure of was the fact that Tim would want his typewriter in the study. She was sure that he liked having that space where he could sit down and type. It was actually a relief to be so certain of something...but the living room...

Well, it was very dark, and she rather thought Tim would like things a bit brighter. She wasn't fond of direct sunlight, but that didn't mean that _all_ the sunlight had to be blocked out. It wasn't as though she were _allergic_ to the sun or anything. At NCIS, she was below ground, yes, but the windows let in light...sometimes.

So...what would Tim want in there? He was pretty traditional, generally speaking...and she very definitely _wasn't_. Maybe some traditional stuff would look good in here...but what would _Tim_ want to have?

There was a knock on the door and Abby's heart twisted as she heard Jethro's bark. Tim was knocking on the door to his own house.

She hurried to the door and opened it.

"Tim, you don't have to knock," she said.

Tim just shrugged and Jethro started leaping around her, clearly happy to see her again. She smiled at him and knelt to scratch his ears and let him lick her face.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm going away for a few days."

Abby stood up again in a hurry.

"Where are you going?" she asked, feeling more worried than ever.

"Just away...nowhere in particular. I just need to...to get away from everything for awhile. Not long, but...I didn't...want you to worry if you noticed that I wasn't at NCIS on Monday."

"I would have noticed."

Tim said nothing in reply...which meant he was skeptical but didn't want to say so.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to be a weird question, but would you answer it?"

Tim smiled a little. "What?"

"Do you like the couches we have? My black leather couches?"

His forehead wrinkled and he cocked his head to the side.

"Huh?"

"The couches in the living room. Do you like them?"

He shrugged.

"No, Tim. I mean it. Would you have picked them out for yourself?"

"No." That was a quick answer. Abby was actually surprised that it _was_ so quick. Tim didn't need to think about it at all. He knew right away...and she'd never even thought about it before.

"What would you have chosen instead?"

The quizzical smile returned. "Is money an object?"

Abby smiled in return. "Well...within reason."

"Okay...uh...I don't know."

"Think, Tim. Please?"

"Why is this important?"

"It just is."

Too used to her quirks to wonder what the point was, Tim took a breath and looked upwards in thought.

"Well...when we were looking for furniture for the house...I saw a sectional in microsuede. Looked nice. Felt nice. ...and easy to clean. It had some funky pillows that I thought would suit you."

"What color was it?"

Tim laughed in a bit of confusion. "It was...a dark brown, I think. Chocolate, maybe. The accent pillows and cushions were red...but it didn't match the room. It was definitely a brown tone and..." He gestured eloquently to the black-themed room.

"You don't like this room, do you."

"The room is fine, Abby," Tim said.

"No, it's not. Not if you don't like it."

Tim's expression changed...and she couldn't decide what emotion he _wasn't_ expressing, but she could tell that he was trying not to show whatever it was he was feeling.

"What is it, Tim?"

Tim was silent for a few seconds...and then...he spoke.

"No, I don't like it, Abby...but you didn't care. You've _never _cared about what I liked...as long as it went along with what you wanted. I don't get why this matters now."

Ouch. It was what Abby herself had been thinking, but to hear Tim say it made it a lot more real.

"It _does_ matter, Tim! I just...I didn't realize it before!"

"I've...I've got to go, Abbs. The taxi's waiting and I don't want to miss my flight." He turned to leave.

"Wait, Tim!"

"What?"

"Do you hate me?"

Tim looked at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Do you hate me? I know you hate what I did, how I've acted...but are you tired of me? Do you want to get divorced?" She tried to stop there, but she couldn't. It was too much of a horror to her. "...because I really don't want to, Tim. I don't. I really _really_ don't, but...but if you're not going to ever be happy with me...I..." She looked down. "I won't...force you to...to stay with me. ...but I want to...I don't want to let you go."

Tim didn't say anything in reply, but Abby suddenly felt his hand caress her cheek. She looked up, and Tim just smiled slightly...and then, to her surprise, he kissed her gently. Then, he left the house.

Abby watched him get into the taxi and she wondered if that had meant yes or no...or if Tim himself wasn't sure and so he wasn't going to answer yet.

Jethro whined, sensing her distress.

"No, Jethro. I'm okay. If Tim had decided...he would have said," she declared, sniffling. "So...I have work to do. I'm going to...to get work done. I think...I think I'm going to go...furniture shopping." She nodded and headed out of the house.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim stared out the window of the taxi and sighed as he headed for the airport.

"You sure you want to go to the airport?"

"Huh?" Tim asked, surprised to be addressed.

"You don't look too happy to be going to the airport. I can take you somewhere else."

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No. The airport's where I need to go."

"All right. If you're sure."

"I am."

"All righty. We'll be there in a jiffy."

"Thanks."

Tim got to the airport and checked in. As he scanned the Departures screen for his flight, he reflected on the fact that he'd never been less enthused about going on a vacation. Still, maybe this would really help him. Maybe he'd figure out what to do with his life while sitting on the beach on Ocracoke Island...a place he'd never heard of before but had been suggested to him by the Vances. In fact, he was getting to the island with the help of one of their friends who had a plane. He had wanted to say no, but in the end, he had to admit that, however much it galled him, he couldn't drive there himself. He really hated the driving restriction. That was likely to drive him crazy long before anything else.

That was why he was flying to North Carolina, only to get on a much smaller puddlejumper and land on the Ocracoke airstrip.

After Jackie had made the suggestion, Tim had gone back to Ducky's and looked up everything he could about the tiny island off the North Carolina coast. As soon as he'd seen the phrase "remote, pristine beaches", he'd called the Vances back and agreed to go.

Someplace he could be completely alone if he wanted to. That sounded _really_ nice.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Hold on, Tim! It's not the smoothest runway!"

Tim grimaced and tightened his seatbelt. He rather suspected it had a lot more to do with the plane than with the runway. This little plane had put Tim through the worst shaking he'd ever had. He didn't normally have any trouble flying, but this had unsettled his stomach.

With a jolt, they touched down and taxied to the end of the runway.

"Light as a feather."

Tim couldn't suppress a skeptical laugh. Sheldon Marcus, the pilot and friend of the Vances, just laughed in reply.

"Believe you me, this plane is in excellent shape. You're just too used to the commercial planes."

"Nothing wrong with using modern amenities," Tim countered.

"Except when they don't exist. You're not getting a commercial liner on _this_ runway."

Tim looked at the "airport" on Ocracoke. No, definitely no commercial flights coming in here.

"You're right about that."

"You regretting coming?"

"No. I think the isolation will be good for me. Being around people hasn't been helping much."

Tim didn't know how much the Vances had told Sheldon, but he figured that Sheldon wasn't stupid and could see that Tim was running away from _something_.

"Well, people are pretty much everywhere, but you can get away from them on Ocracoke, if that's what you're wanting."

"For now...yes. That's _exactly_ what I'm wanting."

"I can see you've been having a rough time just by looking at you...but it's not _all_ people who are the problem."

"I know...but it seems like it's the people I _should_ have been able to trust. If the people I care about can do this...what about strangers?"

"I'm a stranger."

Tim smiled. "You come highly recommended...by people I _do_ still trust."

As he slowed the plane down, Sheldon mimed tipping his cap.

"Mighty kind of you."

"I do my best."

"Just not good enough lately?"

Tim sighed. "Feels like it...which is why I'm coming here. Clear my head...maybe get me back in the game again."

"Well, good luck to you."

"I'll need it. Thanks for the ride."

"Oh, your ride's not over yet. I'm giving you a lift into town...or a friend of mine is."

"A friend of yours?"

"Native Ocracoke...ian...or whatever you want to call them. I told him when we'd be here. I'll come on into town and make him buy me a drink. You can join us or just go to your hotel or whatever."

Tim smiled. "Thanks for the invitation...but..."

"You want to be alone. No problem. I understand. You're heading back when?"

"Saturday. I'm just here for the week."

"A week to cure what ails you?"

"All I can spare."

Sheldon brought the plane to a halt near the edge of the tarmac and clapped Tim on the shoulder.

"Maybe it'll be enough. Here we are. You going to be steady enough on your feet?"

"Enough to get to someplace where I can sit and stretch my legs."

Sheldon just laughed as Tim clambered out of the plane and tried to stretch his long legs. Tim got his bag and hefted it onto his shoulder as they walked toward the parking lot. Sheldon met his friend, introduced Tim to him and then they dropped Tim off at the small hotel he was staying at.

Tim checked in and then went to his room and sighed with relief at the silence, the soft bed...and the solitude.

He was amazed at how wonderful it felt to be completely alone.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

_Monday..._

Tony looked at Tim's empty desk...and then, over at Ziva. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows.

"I have not seen him yet, Tony," Ziva said. "I do not know where he is. ...perhaps he is just running late this morning."

The elevator dinged, drawing both of their gazes, but Abby got off. She glanced at Tim's desk and didn't seem surprised that it was empty.

"Abby?" Tony asked.

"He's not coming," she said. "Don't talk to me, Tony." She bit her lip and hurried away to her lab.

"He's not coming?" Tony repeated. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means McGee isn't coming in this week," Gibbs said, walking in as he usually did...but there was something different. His words were less clipped, more...unhappy. His glance at Tim's desk was not one of surprise...but it _was_ one of disappointment, perhaps even shame.

"Why not, Gibbs?" Ziva asked. "Everyone has known that he was returning to work today."

"Change of plans."

"What is the change?" Ziva pressed.

Both Tony and Ziva saw Gibbs get ready to retort...and then pull back.

"He's not ready to work with me yet," he said, a little grudgingly. "So he's taking another week. Vance cleared it."

"Where is he?"

"Don't know."

"He is still coming back?" Ziva asked.

"So far as I know," Gibbs said.

"How far do you know, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Not far enough. He doesn't trust me that far." There was a moment's pause where he seemed to regret what he had said. "We have work to do."

They _did_ have work, but they hated that things were still so wrong. Tony almost called Tim to see where he was...but then, he stopped himself. Tim had specifically said he wanted them to leave him alone unless he asked for their company. ...and he hadn't asked. In fact, he had apparently taken steps to _avoid_ their company.

Tony sighed. There _was_ work to do.

...without Tim there.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got up early that morning, ate breakfast alone, packed some food and then got one of the complimentary bikes and left the hotel alone. He biked out of the city of Ocracoke and headed for the beach. Biking tired him out pretty quickly. Even when he'd been in good health, he hadn't done much biking. A mile made him feel tired, but then, he turned off the main road onto a sandy road heading for the south beach...away from the regular tourists. That was even more tiring, but he persevered.

He wanted to be alone. Over the last couple of days, he'd done the same thing. It had been...illuminating. Tim had found himself going through a lot of different emotions. So much so that it was, in itself, rather exhausting. Sometimes, he was just depressed. Other times, he was furious. Yesterday evening, he'd been so angry at the world that he had walked as far as he could to the end of the island and simply screamed. No words. Just a wordless cry of helpless rage. After doing so, he'd felt rather silly (thankfully, no one had been around), but it had also felt good just to get all that out.

Today...he didn't know how he'd feel. It was almost frightening to have all these emotions churning inside him, but he supposed it was probably good that he was finally acknowledging them.

He struggled to pedal the bike through the sand...until finally, he gave up and got off, pushing the bike along side himself, making his way to the empty beach. Once he made it to the water, it was easier to walk along because at least he was at his destination. He didn't bother thinking about the ride back which would be just as hard.

_Not unlike the mess my life is in,_ Tim thought bitterly to himself. _It was hard to get into it and now it's proving almost impossible to get out of it._

He reached his chosen spot on an empty stretch of beach and lay his bike down...and then sat down himself. The nice thing about this place was that, being alone, he could just sit around...and talk out loud if he wanted to. For now, he sat and stared out at the ocean. One of the things that he'd realized was that there was a part of him that wanted to get back at Abby by letting her see how it felt to be jilted. It was a small part, but it made him ashamed of himself. Maybe it wasn't as bad as Abby doing it to him for not answering the phone, but...Tim couldn't believe that even a small part of him was that childish.

Logically, he knew that if there was anything to recover of his marriage, it couldn't be done with revenge and payback. All that had to end. In fact, it couldn't even get started. There had to be _nothing_ of it. No treasuring up the bitterness to bring out later to wound. No hording this moment of pain to bring it out in a later argument. If there was to be any degree of recovery and healing, none of that could happen.

"Is that what I want?" he asked aloud.

The waves didn't answer him, of course. ...and thankfully, he didn't _expect_ an answer from them. Still, he stared at the waves, wishing that there _was_ some kind of answer to find in the ebb and flow.

...but there wasn't. No answers to his predicament were going to come from the water. He had to find the answer for himself. In himself.

He just didn't know what the answer was yet. When Abby...but no, Tim cut that thought off quickly. He wanted to work through the rest of the anger and frustration he felt first. He wouldn't be able to objectively think about Abby's question until he did.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Tuesday..._

It was funny how much more empty Tim's desk seemed now that they knew he was supposed to be coming back this week but wasn't. Tim had already been gone for more than a month...and yet, somehow, it was worse this time. It seemed to indicate that there was a possibility that Tim wouldn't be coming back at all.

Tim might want to cut all ties.

...and if they were honest, they could see that Tim had a right to give up on them completely. After all, they'd all betrayed him in some way. Why deal with complete betrayal if he didn't have to? ...and he didn't.

Gibbs didn't say much, but he never did. However, his eyes would fall on Tim's desk more often than one would expect. He never said a word, but it was clear from how he acted, from _how_ he didn't say anything that he would heartily regretting what he'd done and how quickly everything had fallen apart on his team. If this had been a wake-up call, it had worked.

Maybe too well.

They were all working as usual, but a lot of the spark they'd had in the past was gone. Ziva couldn't honestly say that it was Tim who brought the spark to the team. Sentimental it might be, but it would be wrong, too. It was that they were all facing the fact that their actions were what had led to this. They didn't think they were infallible, but they had messed up in a way that none of them had thought was even possible. None of them had considered the possibility that they would betray their teammate and think such things of him.

And they had.

...and it sucked.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby looked around the living room. It wasn't quite right yet, but as she had in the bedroom, she was appreciating the eclectic nature of the decorations when combining Tim's traditional with her Gothic.

She sat down on the new couch. It wasn't exactly what Tim had mentioned but she couldn't be sure...and so she had bought it...and was glad there was a generous return policy at the store.

...and now, there was another feeling she had. She didn't _want_ to finish it. She didn't want to do the rest of the house. Not alone. She'd made a start and seen that she'd been wrong about what was worth trying...but now, she wanted to do what they should have done before. She wanted to finish the house with Tim. She remembered the weekend after she'd confessed what she'd done. She and Tim had gone and bought flowers for the back patio...and then spent the weekend working on them. It had been the closest they'd been to being on the same page, perhaps ever.

That's what needed to happen now. She couldn't redecorate the whole house on her own. Even if she was trying to figure out what Tim would like, it was still her own ideas and her own opinions. Not Tim's. If he was going to come back, if he was going to have a real home again, if that's what he _wanted_, then, he'd have to have a real chance to give his ideas. He'd never had that before. He'd never _demanded_ it, and she was ashamed to admit, even just to herself, that a demand would have been required to break through her selfishness.

"I just want a chance," she said aloud. "If he'll give it to me. I can only ask."

...but she didn't want to wait for him to come back. She wanted to run to him and beg him to listen to her, beg him to give her another chance, a chance to reassemble the life she'd destroyed. ...and maybe it could be better than it had been before.

"It couldn't be worse than it is now," she whispered.

Decision made, she sat down to plan what books she wanted to move into the main room from the study. There was no earthly reason why Tim's possessions should be hidden in the study.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Wednesday..._

"I'm sorry, Mrs. McGee, but I can't grant your request for leave," Vance said. "I understand and sympathize with your personal problems, but you have a job to do and we need you here to do it."

"But Director, it's only a day or two!" Abby protested, distressed that Vance was in his professional mode.

"You've taken a 'day or two' more than once in the last couple of weeks, Mrs. McGee," Vance said. "This here-and-gone-again work ethic just doesn't cut it when there are cases to solve. You have always been adamant that you don't want or need an assistant. That means that you are much more restricted in the days you can take off than you would be otherwise. We will _not _be having a repeat of the last time you took time away without advance notice. It is irresponsible and could have adverse effects on the cases being investigated. If you wish time off, you will have to file a request like everyone else...and arrange for a _qualified_ substitute...not simply people you can force to step in."

Abby sagged. That was clearly a lecture Vance had been wanting to give her for a while. But why now when she was so sure of what she needed to do? She wasn't used to this.

...but a little voice popped up in her head. _This is just like how you act with everything. What you want takes precedence over anything else._

...and she wanted to change all that. She couldn't change in one place and not in another. That wouldn't really be changing. It would be _acting_.

"Yes, sir," she said meekly.

Vance smiled. "However, I don't think you're scheduled to work on Saturday and I know that your husband won't be heading back until Saturday evening."

"How do _you_ know that?"

"Because he asked for suggestions from Jackie and I...and a friend of ours flew him down there."

"Down where? Where did he go? I was going to ask Ducky, but if you know..."

"Are you sure he'd want to see you? He didn't seem particularly eager when he spoke with us."

"I don't know, but if I go on the day he's coming back, he wouldn't have to be with me for very long. I just really, really need to see him."

"And you can't wait until he comes back?"

"No. It's really important that I go wherever he's gone."

Vance actually smiled. "All right. Well, then, why don't you call Jackie this evening and get our friend's phone number. He's on the island of Ocracoke."

"Never heard of it."

"It's just a small island off the coast of North Carolina. Your husband went there to be _alone_."

Abby nodded to show she understood what he was saying, but she was sure that she needed to show Tim that she was willing to do what it would take to change...to get that chance to show him that she really did love him. A million years ago, it seemed, he had said he wanted to try. Maybe now, they could really try again.

If Tim wanted that...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Thursday..._

"Hey, you mind having company?"

The voice made him look up. An older woman was staring down at him with a smile on her face. Her hair was graying and her face was lined, but she had a vigor that reminded him of Ducky. Older but definitely not dead yet.

"I guess not...but if you don't mind my asking, why do you want _my_ company?" Tim asked. "It seems kind of random."

She smiled. "You may not have noticed, but I'm staying in the same hotel you are. I'm a nosy old woman and I noticed that you're alone...but you're wearing a wedding ring. It made me curious."

Tim looked at the wedding band. He'd never even really considered taking it off. He'd played with it incessantly the first few months he'd had it, but now, it was something he wore without any real thought at all. He twirled it around his finger a few times.

"Do you mind?" she asked again.

"I guess not," he repeated.

She grinned and sat down beside him.

"I think you picked the best part of the beach."

"I like it."

"You come here a lot?"

"Every day this week."

"And before that?"

"I'd never even heard of Ocracoke before last week."

"Ah. My husband and I came here on our honeymoon...a million years ago."

Tim looked at her.

"He died two months ago," she said. "Cancer. He told me that we were going to come here one last time, but he didn't make it. So...I decided to come down myself. Visiting places we went when we were young. Remembering the good times."

Tim nodded...and wondered if he and Abby even had a chance of reaching that point.

"I'm Claire."

Tim put out his hand. "Tim."

"So...what brings you here alone?"

"Trying to figure my life out."

"You want to confide in a stranger?"

"It's not a happy story. I'm sure yours is better."

"Better than being widowed after 45 years of marriage?"

Tim regretted his rash words...and that goaded him to explain. "My wife cheated on me. We've been married for two years. I thought we were really happy, and she's apologized for it, but I can't help thinking that this is what I should have expected. We're so different. I followed along with whatever she said she wanted, but the one time I didn't answer my phone, she decided to _punish_ me by sleeping with another man. Then, everything got worse. Our friends assumed that I'd done something wrong and my boss assumed that I'd abused my wife and he punched me in the face. I ended up with a hematoma that almost killed me. Now, I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with my life...if I still love my wife...if I want to get my friends back...if I can stay at my job after all this that happened." He took a breath. "Sorry...that was probably more than you wanted to know about me. I'm a pitiful man sitting alone on a beach. That's the short version."

Claire was quiet for a few moments but then she smiled.

"Pitiful? No. I do feel some pity for the state of your life at the moment, but...you're not pitiful for all that. I see you _do_ have reason to need some time."

Tim smiled a little and let out a short laugh.

"I'm beginning to think that there's no amount of time that's enough to figure my life out."

"I'm sure it feels that way. Any illumination as yet?"

"Only that...against my better judgment, I still love my wife...and I wish I could have my friends back. I just don't know if that's enough."

"I can't tell you whether it is or not, I'm afraid. It sounds like you have a lot of decisions to make."

"Well, one of them is already made...temporarily. I'm going back to work next week. I guess I'll have to see if it will work out or not."

"Sounds promising."

"Does it?" Tim asked in surprise.

"Yes. You're making an effort. Taking an important step in getting control of your life. If you just ran away from it all, you'd be giving away the control. By taking time, you're asserting your own rights."

"You make it sound so...grandiose."

"Well, I'm guessing it's not like that for you, but what you're doing _is_ important. What about your wife?"

"I don't know. I know she's sorry. I know she wants to make it up to me. I know that she cares about me. She may even still love me, but..."

"You're not sure if that's enough."

"Yeah. I'm tired of being the one to make all the compromises, to be the one who's always in the wrong in any argument. It's like this moment crystallized everything that's been wrong with my marriage since the beginning. I'm wondering if I was crazy to think that someone like me would ever fit with her."

"Someone like you?"

Tim smiled self-deprecatingly. "A geek. I'm pretty dull in comparison."

"She loved you enough to marry you."

"Yeah, but look at what happened. I wasn't enough."

"Is that what you see? That there's some failing in you?"

"Oh, it's her fault," Tim said. "But maybe if I was a bit more exciting, it wouldn't have happened."

"You're trying to cut it both ways. You're trying to blame yourself while still blaming her. In reality, since it's already happened...blame isn't going to help if it doesn't lead to change."

Tim sighed, the moment of anger fading, leaving him depressed again.

"You're right. But I can't see a solution."

"Well, if you've left your problems elsewhere, you're probably _not_ going to see a solution here. It doesn't sound like this was the reason for your solitude anyway."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't know for sure, but it sounds to this old woman like you were simply hoping for time to process everything that's happened...and you deserve that time, for sure."

"Do you know anyone facing things like this?"

"I've known a couple of people who faced the problem of adultery."

"Did they work things out?"

"No. They didn't. For them, it was an ongoing problem, coupled with other issues that were just as serious. It was better for both concerned that they divorced."

Tim sighed again, but Claire chuckled.

"I'm not giving you any advice, Tim. That was a specific situation. I doubt there's a blanket answer for any couple going through this kind of thing."

"Probably not. ...why are people so complicated?"

Claire laughed outright, and Tim couldn't help but join her.

"Because we're flawed. It's what makes us so frustrating and so beautiful at the same time."

"I work with computers a lot," Tim said, almost musing to himself. "I never wanted only to do that. I always wanted more...but right now, I'm wondering why."

"Probably because you understood intuitively that there's more to life than predictability."

"Maybe."

"I can't tell you the answers, Tim, but I will say one thing: You've said what you want. If that's the case, then, it's up to you to see if it's possible. You're not going to get it back if you leave what you want behind...and it's always possible that you'll have 50 more years of happiness and frustration."

Tim smiled wistfully. "I used to imagine what we'd be like when we got to 80. ...I haven't for a while."

Claire returned his smile. "I had hoped to see what we'd be like at 90, but it wasn't to be."

She turned toward the sea and just sat beside Tim in silence.

The two of them, both mourning in their own ways.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Friday..._

Ziva stared hard at her computer screen. This was probably the hardest letter she'd ever written in her life...mostly because she wasn't sure what to put into it, what would help, what would hinder.

Still, she was determined to get this done today. There was a lag time while Abby was getting her results...and she'd been using these little moments all through the day so that she could finish it and print it off this evening...without prying eyes.

"Ziva, what you doing?"

"Nothing."

"That's a total lie," Tony said. "You've been so studious over there that I was wondering if you're planning on becoming the citizen of _another_ country."

"Ha ha. No."

"Then, what?" he asked in a wheedling tone.

"I...You will not make fun of me?"

"I can't promise something like that," Tony said with a grin.

"This is serious, Tony."

His brow furrowed. "Okay."

"I am writing a note for McGee...for when he returns. I am not saying much, just that I am happy he is coming back and that we have all missed him, especially in this week when we thought he would be returning. I am not certain how to phrase what I wish to say and so I am concentrating."

Tony was quiet for a few seconds.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What do you have so far?"

"Tony, I do not want you to mock what I am doing."

"I'm serious, Ziva. What are you going to write?"

Ziva looked at Tony, making sure he meant it. Then, she read out what she'd written.

"'Dear McGee, we have missed you and look forward to when you come back. We thought you were coming back this week and it was disappointing to find that you did not. Welcome back.'"

"That's...really formal, Ziva."

"I know. It does not sound right."

"Well, stop making it so formal then. You're not formal. This is McGee! He doesn't care about formal." Tony hitched a shoulder uncomfortably. "He cares about sincerity...and he wants to trust us again."

Ziva looked at the letter and then at Tony. She took a breath and deleted everything...and she started writing again.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I did something, too?"

"Would I mind?" she repeated.

"Yeah...It's your idea. I don't want to...you know, step on your toes."

"My toes are well-protected. My shoes have steel-reinforced toes."

Tony laughed. "I mean, I don't want to overshadow what you're doing. It was your idea first."

"I do not think McGee would mind. That is more important."

"But still..."

"I do not mind, either."

"Okay."

Gibbs came in and called them back to work...but they both stayed after work to finish their notes. They didn't talk about it again, and when they both set them in Tim's top drawer, they didn't speak to each other. Both were just hoping it would do some good.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Saturday..._

Tim spent yet another day sitting on the beach. Claire had eaten breakfast with him, but she had let him go off to pursue his solitude. He rode the bike once again to the southwest side where there weren't so many people. He had to walk it through the sand.

After a few hours, though, he decided that he wasn't going to find any other answers. Claire had been right. There really weren't answers to be found on the beach.

But he also felt like he'd needed this time away from everyone. He felt more relaxed...more able to deal with what was going on in his life. It was not as if his problems had suddenly vanished, but there was a chance to maybe see what he could salvage.

With that thought, he got up off the sand and headed back. As he struggled to ride the bike through the sand, he thought about how ridiculous it was that he had even bothered to get the bike when he could only manage riding it half the time.

As he built up a bit of speed, he was panting and not really looking where he was going. It was all sand.

...until he hit the rock and flew over the handlebars. He hit the sand and it felt like he'd hit a brick wall. He lay there, stunned, for a while.

Then, he heard a voice he hadn't expected.

"Tim! Are you okay?"

Tim forced himself to sit up, rubbing his shoulder.

"Abby?"


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Tim felt Abby's arms around him. It couldn't be anyone else. He would recognize that feeling anywhere...and that scent.

"Abby...what are you doing here?"

"Are you okay? I asked at the hotel and this lady said that you went this way. I saw you fly off the bike and..."

Tim pulled back and winced. Sand wasn't supposed to be so _hard_.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here to...to _talk_ to you."

"Abby...if you knew where I've been, you must have known that I'm coming back tonight."

Abby nodded.

"Are you okay?"

Her dogged question made him smile in spite of everything.

"I'll live. Why did you come here?"

Abby started looking him over, checking his face and then feeling his arms and back and legs. Tim was surprised that she was so intent on proving that he was okay.

"Abby?"

"Nothing's broken, but I don't think you should keep riding the bike. Can you get up?"

Tim nodded and got to his feet, suppressing a groan. He _ached_...but he agreed that nothing was broken. Abby picked up his bike as he brushed away the sand from his arms and legs and clothes. She started pushing the bike along the sandy trail. He was surprised that she wasn't saying anything. He walked along side her, casting questioning glances her way.

"Abby, why did you come here to talk to me? It could have waited."

"No, it couldn't."

"Why not?"

Abby stopped and looked at him.

"Because...it's my turn to come for you...to sacrifice something for you...to...give you something more than just love."

"Abby..." Tim began. He wasn't sure he could take this.

"No...Tim. There's a lot I need to say to you, but...this isn't the right place, and I want to make sure you get patched up first. Is there someplace we can talk...privately?"

"My hotel room?"

"No. Are there beaches close by?"

"Yeah. The place I've been going is pretty much empty, but that's a long slog."

Abby smiled a little and then resumed pushing the bike.

"We can go back to your hotel first. Then, you can tell me where to go. I rented a car."

"I would have..."

"Yeah, I know."

They walked in silence to the truck Abby had parked by the turnoff. They loaded Tim's bike into the back and then drove back to his hotel. Still saying nothing. When they got back, Abby got a first aid kit, explaining Tim's spill. Then, they went to his hotel room. Tim showered, scrubbing at all his scrapes, knowing that tomorrow he would be regretting every movement.

When he came out of the bathroom, Abby was waiting quietly for him. She indicated that he should sit.

"Abbs, I can do this."

"I know."

That was all she said.

"Abby."

"Just let me do this for you, Tim."

"Okay."

Her ministrations were gentle and skilled. Within a couple of minutes, he was patched up. Then, he led her out of the hotel and back to the truck. She drove them out to the beach by the Hatteras inlet on the opposite side of the island. Then, they got out of the car and walked together to the beach.

"Abby, what is this about?"

Abby knelt on the sand, facing him. "Tim...it's about you. It's _finally_ about you. I know that I haven't _ever_ put you first. I've always insisted that _I_ was first...in everything. I know that I've messed things up. A lot. _Really_ a lot. I know that I've been lucky that you've bothered staying with me as long as you have. I know all that. There's just...there's something I don't know for sure."

"What's that?"

"Whether or not...you're willing to give me a chance...a chance to show you that I'm starting to get it. Tim...I love you. So much. So much more than I even knew I did before. I would deserve it, I know...but I'm hoping that you won't want to give up...not now that I'm finally understanding where I went wrong. I'm not perfect. I know that. I won't be getting everything right even now that I'm understanding...but I just want a chance to show you...to show you that I love you...even after what I did to you...and what I've _been_ doing to you all along."

Tim stared at her in shock. It was almost like another person talking. He couldn't believe that this was Abby telling him all this. He didn't know what to say in reply. His mind was whirling with so many emotions that he couldn't fathom what was the right way to answer her.

Luckily for him, Abby wasn't done.

"When all this started...when I first admitted to what I'd done to you...you said you wanted to try. _You_ wanted to try, but I didn't want to. I wanted everything just to go back to normal. I didn't want any _effort_ to be required. It took you leaving to make me think, to _really_ think, and I'm thinking now, Tim. I'm thinking that I love you more than anything and it makes me sick to think that I hurt you so much...and even worse that I've _been_ dismissing you all along the way. Since you left me in the house, I've been seeing things...seeing how they really are...and I'm not going to pretend that I'm not...still selfish." She looked at her hands. "I've been seeing how selfish I really am, how far it goes."

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

Tim thought about how to ask this question. He wasn't sure what the right way was...if there even _was_ a right way.

"Abby...what if I never came back?"

Her head jerked up and she looked in his eyes...and he saw the devastation that was all the answer he really needed.

"Please, don't go," Abby said, her eyes filling with tears. "I had to let you go before, and I know that's what you needed. It was what I needed, too. ...but please, don't leave me now...because if you leave now...it _will_ be forever."

"I'm not ready to go back to our house."

"Okay. I can wait...but don't say you're never coming back."

"Even if that's best for me?" Tim asked.

"Is it?" Abby asked. "Is it really? ...because if it is...I have to let you, but...but Tim, I don't want it to be."

Tim reached out and brushed away the tears on her cheeks.

"I don't know if it is or not yet."

"Then...can you give me another chance? Just one more chance to get things right?"

"Right...how?" Tim asked.

"I want to show you what I've started doing...but I can't go any farther until...unless I have your help."

That was strangely mysterious.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to just tell you. I want to show you. I...I want you to see it."

Tim took a deep breath and looked at Abby. He remembered how much he loved her, how happy he'd been when they got married...and how disillusioning marriage had been for him. ...but he also could see that Abby was different. The question was whether or not this was a different that would remain or if she would completely revert to her former behavior as soon as he agreed to come back. He couldn't deal with that if it did happen. ...but did he have to worry about that? Could he possibly trust her again?

"Please, Tim? Can we start again? Can we try again? I don't think I could feel the same hurt that I made you feel, but...but I do hurt for what's happened. I just want a chance to show you that I'm changing, that I really do care."

Tim looked at the sea and sighed.

"You're not the only one who needs to change, Abby. All the time that we were going out, all the time we've been married...I always let you get your way. I never pushed. I never stood up for my ideas. I thought that compromise was what marriage was all about...but I forgot something."

"What?" Abby asked softly when he didn't go on.

"What compromise actually means. It's not concession after concession of one person. The 'com' means together. Both sides have to be working together and agreeing to give up something for the better of both of them." He looked at Abby. "We haven't done that. Ever. The only times that I insisted on something...you gave in, but I never had the feeling that you were happy about it, that you accepted it. I shouldn't have let that happen."

"I should have known better."

"So should I."

"Tim, this wasn't your fault!" Abby said.

"I know," Tim said very softly. He looked back at the waves as they rolled up the sand. "...unless it was a mistake to think that we could make it work in the first place."

There was a long silence. The waves rolled in and out multiple times.

"Tim...do you _think_ it was a mistake? Do you think our getting married was just wrong and couldn't ever be right?"

Tim kept his eyes on the ocean. "I don't know. Abby...that's the thing. Maybe it makes me a big sap, but I still love you. I've loved you so much...but it doesn't seem to have been enough. ...and sure, we're both aware now, but how long would it take to fall back into the same routine, the same patterns that we were in before? ...and I couldn't go through it again, Abby. I couldn't. It would hurt too much to face that again."

"I love you, too, Tim. So much more than I thought I did."

Tim suddenly chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking that if someone heard certain parts of this conversation, they'd probably think we were the sappiest couple in the universe...instead of two people trying to work through infidelity."

"It's more than that, though...isn't it."

"Well, I have to admit that the fact that you slept with another man is foremost on my mind."

"Yeah."

"Was it worth it?"

"No. It wasn't from the morning when I woke up. It was never worth it."

Tim wasn't sure whether or not that made him feel any better. He still wasn't looking at Abby, and he was surprised that she wasn't forcing it. She really did seem different. What was he expecting? He didn't know. That was a big part of the problem. He didn't know what he was wanting to come of all this.

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"I...can't give you any answers yet. Can you wait?"

"How long?"

"I don't know. I just know that I need time to...process what you've said."

"Okay. Will you still come home and see what I've been doing?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. ...um...I flew over with Sheldon. Would you rather I figure a different way back?"

Tim smiled and shook his head.

"No. That's okay. I think we can share a plane."

"I don't want to make it harder for you."

Finally, Tim looked at Abby again. He took her hands in his.

"Abby...I'm just going to say this, and I know it will hurt you, but you need to hear it from me once...and then I'll never say it again." He took a breath. "You cheated on me. You betrayed every marriage vow we made. You tore me apart from the inside out. Sharing a plane is not even on the _list _of things that could make this harder than it already is."

Abby's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. Tim took another breath.

"I need to pack up and check out of the hotel. Could you take me back now?"

Abby nodded again. Tim got to his feet and pulled Abby up as well.

As they walked to the truck, Tim kept hold of her hand and she didn't pull away.

A couple of hours later, they were landing at the airport and Tim was going off to his flight back to DC...and Abby was getting in her car and driving back.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"...and now...I don't know anymore, Ducky," Tim finished. "I really didn't expect to see her...and I didn't know what to say."

"What _did_ you say?"

Tim smiled a bit. "That I needed time...but Ducky, how much _time_ should I be expecting to take? At what point does it become...pointless...for both of us?"

"I can't answer that, lad. I wish I could."

"She asked me to come over and see something she'd been doing that would show me that she's changing. The thing is...I could see when she came to Ocracoke that she'd changed...but is it a lasting change?"

Ducky smiled. "Oh, Timothy, you can't ever know how long something will last. You can't. Even if you thought you could before, you can't. Human beings aren't predictable creatures. A man goes to work every day, seems happy and well-liked...and goes home one night and kills himself because he feels so alone. A woman people have written off as being a hopeless case pulls herself up out of the mire in which she has lived and finds a new life. ...a couple people looked on as being perfect suddenly falls apart and reveals to everyone, even themselves, that they weren't perfect after all. People are never predictable, for good or ill."

"I know."

"But right now you wish they were?"

"Yeah. I do." Tim looked at the tea Ducky had insisted on serving him. "Ducky...I never thought I could hurt like this...and I feel almost like it would be worth any sacrifice not to feel this again." He sighed. "...but at the same time, I want what I had...what I thought I had."

"What did you think you had?"

"A good life. A woman I loved, a home, a great family, a circle of friends...and a job I enjoyed."

"And which impulse is greater?" Ducky asked gently.

Tim leaned forward and rested his head on his hands.

"I'm such an _idiot_."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I just want to have Abby back...even though...even with what she's done, even with everything that's happened...I want to be able to trust her again, I want to...to be with her."

"That's not idiocy."

"Yes, it is."

"Why?"

"Because she did it once. Who's to say she won't again? What if we just go back to the same things we were doing before?"

"Do you think it likely?"

Tim laughed and shook his head. "I'm not the one to ask, Ducky. My track record's not very good in seeing things how they really are."

Ducky's expression became stern. "Now, Timothy, that is _not_ an appropriate attitude."

"Why not?" Tim asked. "I'm the one who didn't see any of it coming. Not in any aspect of this horrible mess. I didn't see how Abby was, but I _thought_ I did. I didn't even _guess_ that Tony would suspect that, that Gibbs would believe it, that he would _attack_ me for it. I didn't _see_ any of that!"

_Thwack!_

Tim looked at Ducky almost in shock.

"Abigail has been avoiding discussion with you, Timothy, and I know it's been difficult, but you are _also_ avoiding difficult discussions."

"I don't think I've been trying to make it easy," Tim said, rubbing the back of his head a little.

"No," Ducky said with almost an incredulous chuckle. "What boggles my mind is that, in your avoidance of reality, you're making it _worse_. Everything is your fault. You weren't enough. You should have seen it coming. You should have anticipated. Now, you want to be able to control everything, predict everything because that will keep you from getting hurt. You want it all to be up to you...but already, you've decided that you're not good enough to have any control over your life. Timothy, you need to wake up and face reality...as you've said Abigail is starting to do."

"And what reality am I _not_ facing, Ducky?"

"That things are not as bad as you want them to be."

"As I _want_ them to be?"

"Yes. If things were completely horrible, you could easily make a decision. You would know what was best to do. As it is, things are _not_ completely horrid, and you have a difficult choice...and you are afraid to make it, afraid of making the wrong choice."

Tim pushed the teacup away and stood up. What Ducky said had twisted his stomach and made his heart sink like a lead balloon. He started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Timothy, wait."

Tim stopped but didn't turn around.

"Don't run away. You needed to get away for a while, and that was a good thing. Abigail's sudden appearance no doubt shocked you, but the situation hasn't really changed. You still have to make a decision...and you want to be right. I understand that, but you can't be sure that you are from the moment you decide. Life rarely gives you that pleasure."

"I don't..." Tim stopped and then continued, still facing away. "I'm so afraid of making things worse. ...worse for myself, but also for everyone else. You told me that I have all the power to choose how things will be. Ducky...that's a huge responsibility. Abby said that she...she wants to really try, that she didn't really before, but she does now. I..." He paused again, feeling ashamed of what he was about to say. "...sometimes, it's just so much easier to be angry and bitter and not let anything else in. It's easier than believing. It's easier than trusting. It's...easier than accepting that _maybe_ things could get better. It's a horrible thing to feel, but I do feel that...and if we do try...that can't happen. I can't _be_ like that."

"Timothy, turn around."

Tim shook his head. He didn't want to face Ducky's censure...it couldn't possibly be worse than how he felt himself, but it would be hard to see it in someone else's eyes.

"Timothy."

"No."

"Yes, Timothy. Turn around. I want to ask you a question."

Reluctantly, Tim turned around but he couldn't bring himself to meet Ducky's gaze. He stared at his shoes, like he had when he was young and in trouble for one thing or another. He hadn't been a _bad_ kid, but he'd had his moments like anyone else. A moment of indiscretion...like when he'd noticed all the wads of toilet paper on the ceiling in the restroom and decided that he wanted to do that, too. Of course, lots of kids had done it and gotten away with it, but _he_ got caught, taken to the principal's office and lectured. He had stared at his shoes, then, too. His shoes were unlikely to get angry at him.

"Timothy...I feel silly for saying this, but I'm not mad at you...and what you've said isn't as horrible as you seem to think it is. Raise your head."

Tim lifted his eyes. Ducky was simply sitting and waiting. No sign of revulsion.

"Do you _want_ to try?"

Tim opened his mouth to answer, but Ducky stopped him.

"Don't think about anything else, Timothy. Just focus on that one question. Do you or do you _not_ want to try again to have a healthy relationship with Abigail?"

Again, Tim tried to answer, but Ducky held up a hand.

"I don't want you to tell _me_. I'm not your wife."

Tim laughed a little. Ducky smiled as well, but his eyes remained serious.

"I want you to answer it for yourself...and then, answer it for your wife. ...and I don't think you should put it off any longer because I'm fairly certain that you already know the answer to that question. Are you still going to your home?"

Tim nodded mutely.

"Then, I suggest that, after seeing what Abigail wants to show you, that you tell her what you want to do. Whatever comes after that will either have to be done together, if you want to make a go of it, or permanently apart, if you want to separate. Up to this point, you've not been working together or at the same time or in the same arena, so to speak. This is your chance either to break it off completely or start the process together."

Tim swallowed nervously and stared at the floor again.

"I understand that you're afraid of doing this, but you can't go on in this limbo any longer. Your time away was to allow you to regroup and learn your own mind. I think you have, but you're now secondguessing it. Stop with the secondguessing and get going with your life...however you choose it to be."

Tim looked up and smiled. "You headslapped me."

"It's a wake-up call."

"You think I needed one?"

"You _know_ you did."

"I..." Tim took a deep breath. "I...know what the answer is."

"Good. Tell Abigail."

Tim nodded.

"Would you like a ride over?"

"No. I'm going to take a taxi."

"This is the next step, Timothy."

"I don't feel ready to take it."

"You are...and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by how ready you will be once you try it."

Tim felt a little skeptical, but he nodded.

"I guess I'm going...now."

Ducky smiled. "Go on, then, lad."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby was waiting anxiously for Tim to get there. He had promised to come by today. He would because Tim kept his promises, but she wasn't sure how he was feeling, if he would see what she meant. She was watching out the window. The last thing she wanted was to see if Tim was going to knock on the door again. She hated that.

A taxi pulled up and Tim got out. He looked uncertain, but she found that she preferred that expression on his face to the one when they had been at Ocracoke. She couldn't even have said why, but it was better.

She opened the door and smiled at him as he walked up. Jethro zoomed out the door and began jumping around Tim. He'd missed Tim in the last while. Abby wished she felt she could do the same, actually.

"Hi, Tim," she said, trying to be calm and welcoming.

"Hi." He seemed nervous, almost like the first time he'd asked her out.

"I'm glad you came."

"I'm here," he said...and scratched Jethro's ears.

Suddenly, Abby couldn't resist it. She ran forward and grabbed his hand.

"Come inside!" she said, dragging him forward.

She saw him smile, and she liked it.

"Don't look around the living room. I want to show you the bedroom, first."

"What?"

Tim started to look and she put her hand over his eyes.

"I said _don't_ look!"

"Abby, what am I not looking at?"

"You'll see...later. Upstairs, first!"

"Okay."

Abby could see that Tim was completely confused at what she was doing, but she was hoping that this would help. She _really_ hoped it would help.

She stopped at the door to the bedroom.

"Tim, I really want you to see what I've been...trying to do, trying to learn. I want you to know that I'm...I'm getting it."

"What's in the bedroom that's going to show me that?" Tim asked.

She could see the guarded expression on his face. She hoped that this would get rid of that. She opened the door and pulled Tim inside.

"Abby...what–?" Tim broke off abruptly when he saw how much the room had been changed.

He stepped forward and looked at the pictures from their wedding. He reached out and touched the one that had been his favorite. He said nothing, but then he turned around and walked to the bed. He touched the duvet that he had liked so much. He walked around to the head of the bed and turned down the covers, exposing the satin sheets Abby liked. He touched each of the pillows.

It was like he'd suddenly gone blind and was reassuring himself of the reality of all these things by feeling the different fabrics.

Abby really wanted to ask him what was going through his head, but she wanted to let him think. Tim was a thinker. He needed the time to process things. She had known that would be the case when she had sprung herself on him on Ocracoke. So, even though she was bursting to know if this was working, she held her tongue and waited in the doorway.

Tim was facing the wall.

"Abby..."

"Do you like it, Tim?" Abby asked.

"I always liked this duvet."

"I know."

"It looks nice...with your pillowcases."

"It really does," Abby said.

"It even matches the black sheets."

"They all go really good together."

"They do. I like the pictures you put up."

"I put up my favorite and the one I thought was your favorite and the one we picked together. Was I right?"

Tim nodded.

"I'm glad."

Still, Tim wasn't saying much, and Abby couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

"You said there was something else downstairs?" Tim asked.

"Yeah. It's only just started."

Tim turned around, but his face was a complete blank...and she really wasn't sure how he was actually feeling. ...but she pressed on. He walked over to her and they went downstairs. He looked at the couch.

"You bought a new couch?" he asked. "...a...a _brown_ couch?"

"Actually, it's mocha...and a dark leather...and the pillows are red."

"What did you do with the old ones?"

"I put them in our storage unit," Abby said. "I was going to put them on Ebay. ...look at the bookshelves."

Tim walked forward, again, not facing her. He ran his fingers lightly over the books she'd pulled from the study. She'd decided to keep them mostly separated, mostly for convenience since they rarely enjoyed reading each other's books, but they were there.

"I did this much, Tim," Abby said. "...but I didn't want to do any more of it...not without you. I needed to see how wrong I was, and then...then, I knew that if I kept going I would still be wrong because it would still be without you. ...but it works, Tim. You and I are so far apart right now, but...but what we like...it fits together. It's really...really perfect...together. ...and if you...if you _want_ to, we can go through and do what we should have done before, what I should have _let_ us do before. We can make the house _ours_. ...but only if you want to."

There was a long silence. Tim didn't turn around, didn't speak. Abby felt the tears in her eyes.

"Tim?" she asked.

Tim turned around and sank onto the couch. He dropped his head and ran his hands through his short hair. Abby ran over and sat down beside him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

She put a hand on his back and felt him trembling.

"Tim? Are you all right?"

Suddenly, Tim did about the most un-Tim-like thing ever. He turned to her and pulled her into a tight hug. She could still feel him trembling, but he was holding her so close.

"No, Abby," he said.

Her heart seemed to stop...but he wasn't done.

"I'm not all right. I'm terrified."

"Why?" Abby asked, now feeling afraid herself.

"Because of what I'm about to say. It's...It's going to be really hard for me to get it out. Just...let me stumble over it, okay?"

"Okay."

She expected him to let her go, but he didn't, although he did loosen his grip so that he wasn't cutting off her air supply.

"When you told me what you'd done, I...I was... It was like everything I thought I'd known had suddenly been proven to be a lie. Everything. My whole world seemed to get turned upside down. ...and I was...was really...I was hurt. I was angry. I was...betrayed. ...but as time went on, I started to think that...that I had..."

Abby felt a damp patch growing on her shoulder. Tim was crying. This didn't feel like a good thing, but she had no idea what to expect this time.

"...I've been thinking that even though it was you that had done something wrong, that it was still somehow because of me...that I should have seen it all coming. It's not only you I stopped trusting. I stopped trusting myself, too...and...and so every inclination I've had...everything I've wanted to do...I've thought it must be wrong because I've done so many things wrong."

Tim stopped talking for a moment and just held her. ...but Abby could tell he wasn't done; so she forced herself to stay quiet even though she really, _really_ wanted to know what he was thinking.

"...but here's the thing...Abby. I came here not knowing what I was going to say, not exactly, not having the slightest idea of what you wanted to show me, but..." His arms tightened around her. "...but I still love you...and...if you're...willing to let me work through this...if you're willing to work _with_ me on the problems we still have...if that's what you want to do..."

Another _long_ pause.

"...I want to start again...if that's possible."

Abby hugged Tim back and started crying herself.

"It's possible, Tim. It has to be. We can take it slow. We can put ourselves back together again...only better than it was before. We can take the time...all the time."

Finally, Tim let her go, and Abby was unsurprised to see his eyes were as red as her own probably were.

"Do you think we can ever put the past behind us, Tim?" she asked.

He smiled a little. "I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't. Maybe we need to remember what happened so that _neither_ of us make the same mistakes again."

"What now?"

Tim took a deep breath. "I'm not quite ready to come back here. I'll be back at NCIS tomorrow. Can you let me take it slowly?"

"You want to stay with Ducky this week?"

"Yeah...and...I've been thinking that...maybe...maybe I need to talk with someone."

"Maybe we both should," Abby said.

"We'll see. I think one huge decision is all I have in me right now."

Abby smiled and hugged Tim again.

"Thank you, Tim! Thanks for giving me another chance. I love you."

"I love you, too."

There was another period of silence and then Tim pulled back.

"You really bought a couch because I mentioned it?" he asked.

"Do you like it?" Abby asked.

"It really doesn't go with the room," Tim said.

"Then, the room will change...if you like it."

Tim rubbed the microsuede.

"I do like it."

"Then, we'll change the room to fit it."

Tim looked at her. "Can we change it enough?"

"Yes...because we'll both be working on it. Together."

Tim leaned back on the couch.

"Can we sit here together, Tim? Just for awhile?"

Tim nodded and closed his eyes. Abby leaned against him. She felt the tension in his body, but after a few minutes, he relaxed and put his arm around her.

A step forward...to Abby, it felt like a leap, even if there was a lot farther to go.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

_Monday..._

Tim sat and stared at NCIS through the windshield of Ducky's car. He'd been sitting there for the last five minutes. He knew Ducky was sympathetic...but amused. He was waiting, but Tim had the sense that Ducky would be asking him to get a move on soon.

"Timothy?"

"I know."

"Things aren't going to change if you stay out here any longer."

"I know."

"Timothy, is this what you want?"

"Yes."

"Then, take the next step."

"You think I'm ready?"

Ducky chuckled. "Timothy, you know whether you're ready or not."

"It's a...scary step to take, Ducky. After everything that happened. What if it's the wrong choice that I've made?"

Ducky patted Tim's arm.

"Remember, Timothy. You won't know right away. You're going to have to see how things go."

"Yeah, I know." Tim peered through the windshield once more. "Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have any...recommendations for a...well..."

"For a therapist?"

"Yeah."

"For both of you or just you?"

"Just me, at the moment."

"I can think of some, I'm sure."

"Thanks."

"Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

"Get out of the car."

Tim laughed and opened the car door. Then, he paused.

"Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"Am I being ridiculous in coming back?"

"I don't know, Timothy. What do _you_ think?"

Tim sighed. "I want my life back, Ducky."

"Then, go and get it, lad."

A deep breath and Tim got out of the car. Ducky followed suit and they headed inside.

"Agent McGee! Nice to see you back!" Henry said when they reached the security desk.

Tim smiled. "Hi, Henry. It's been a while."

"Too long. You're still looking a bit rough. You feeling all right?"

"Much better than I was...in a lot of ways," Tim said with a smile. At the back of his mind, though, was a real awareness that Henry was scrutinizing him, seeing how he was reacting to being back...see if he was hiding anything about what he thought of his colleagues. "I missed NCIS."

"Well, I'm happy to check you in."

Tim chuckled and headed for the elevator. When the doors closed, he exhaled loudly.

"I see what you mean, Ducky."

"About?"

"About people being ready to follow my lead. I swear that Henry was...analyzing every move I made."

"He's asked about you quite often. He did see you when we took you to the hospital. So he knows, better than others, some of the details."

"Oh. Did I do all right?"

Ducky shook his head. "Timothy, there are no grades going on here. You don't receive marks for how you behave in casual conversation. Relax!"

"I feel like...like it's my first day, again."

"It's not. You're not a rookie. You know everyone here. ...and although it's rather stressful for you, you have control over yourself and how _you_ react...not anyone else."

"Right."

The elevator doors opened, and Tim stepped into the bullpen...and a few seconds later noticed a lull in the usual morning conversations. He saw more eyes than usually looked up when people got off the elevator. Then, he heard some whispers...but all the of the glances were sympathetic...perhaps a little curious.

Still, Tim didn't like having all the attention. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and walked to his desk. Ducky squeezed his shoulder.

"I'll be around if you want to talk later, Timothy," he said in a low voice. "Relax."

"Yeah, right," Tim muttered back. "I'm as relaxed as...as a blown-up puffer fish."

Ducky laughed and gave him another encouraging squeeze. Then, he headed for Autopsy, leaving Tim to sit at his desk and try not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. The conversations resumed, but Tim had an inordinate number of people walk by his desk and welcome him back, all with an extra look that told him more about what they were thinking than anything they actually said.

Tim started chewing on his tongue as it came closer and closer to the time when he knew Tony and Ziva would be getting there.

The elevator dinged...but it wasn't Tony or Ziva.

It was Abby. She walked over to him, almost tentatively.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Slightly better than yesterday," he said with a weak smile.

"Do you want to get lunch...together?"

Tim thought about it. Given how things could turn out with his team, i.e. awkward to end all awkwardness, maybe having lunch with his wife who had cheated on him wouldn't improve things. ...but at the same time, he hadn't spent a lot of time with Abby in ages...and he could admit to himself that he missed her.

"Okay."

She smiled happily.

"Welcome back, Tim," she whispered.

Tim was grateful that she kept her voice low. There was a look in her eyes that told him she was aware of how stressed out he was.

"Thanks," he whispered back.

Then, she withdrew to her lab, leaving Tim alone at the desk. He wasn't sure what to do at this point. Gibbs wasn't there. Tony and Ziva weren't there. No one on his team was in the bullpen. He'd been gone for so long that he didn't have a clue what was going on.

"This is so weird," he whispered.

"Agent McGee. I heard you were coming back."

Tim jumped and looked up.

"Agent Lovitz," he said in surprise. He hadn't really talked to the other team leader very much.

"How are you feeling?"

"I think...about as good as I can be right now."

To Tim's surprise, Lovitz didn't move on. He grabbed Gibbs' chair and rolled it over to Tim's desk.

"Look...no one knows all the details of this, but a few of us have realized that there's more going on here. You need anything, just ask."

Tim was surprised. He stammered for a few seconds, not actually getting out any words.

"Uh...thanks...Agent Lovitz."

Lovitz smiled and stood up. He pushed Gibbs' chair back to its rightful place, and headed to his own space. Tim watched him go and then heard the elevator ding once again. He gritted his teeth and looked in the direction of the sound. Tony and Ziva were walking toward their space. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw him sitting at his desk. Ziva smiled and walked to him...Tony was a few steps behind, more wary. ...like Tim himself felt. Ziva's eyes swept over his desk and her smile faltered slightly, but then she smiled again.

"Welcome back, McGee. You are looking better."

"Thanks," Tim said, awkwardly. "Funny...Henry said that I look rough."

"Well, you do not look back to normal, but you are much better than the last time I saw you."

"Thanks." Tim took a breath. "So...what's the...the case right now? I'm not on field duty yet...but I can sit at the computer."

"We're...investigating what looks like a murder-suicide," Tony said. "It's...two Marines. We're not sure why it happened."

Tim looked at them, feeling the tension among them all. It was manageable...

...until the tension ramped up by a factor of about ten...thousand.

Gibbs walked in.

Tim felt himself stiffen. Tony and Ziva looked at him in surprise for a moment and then turned.

"Morning, Boss," Tony said.

"Good morning, Gibbs," Ziva said.

"Hi, Gibbs," Tim said. "What do you want me to do?"

Gibbs looked at him with an inscrutable expression.

"The director wants to talk to us."

"Now?" Tim asked.

"Yeah."

He nodded and stood up. Seeing Gibbs made him retreat behind an emotionless wall. He couldn't afford to let out how stressed he was just by being in Gibbs' presence. He still remembered the strange confrontation he'd had with him. He didn't know what to make of it all, and until he could straighten it all out in his head, he didn't feel secure with letting out what he was thinking.

He walked stiffly beside Gibbs as they went up the stairs.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"He has not looked at them," Ziva said, feeling extremely disappointed.

"Do you think he looked and then didn't _want_ to read them?"

Ziva looked at Tony for a second and then bent over Tim's desk and pulled open the drawer.

"No. They are still in the same place. He simply has not opened the drawer yet. There is no reason for him to do so. We did not tell him the letters were there."

"True. Did you see him when Gibbs came in?"

Ziva shrugged. "It was not much worse than when _we_ came. This is going to be difficult, Tony."

"Worth it?"

"I do not know. I rather think it matters more whether or not it is worth it to McGee."

"Yeah. Is it?"

Ziva looked up toward Vance's office.

"He came back. He did not have to. I think Vance would have let him go wherever he wanted to go. It is worth it for now."

Tony sat down at his desk. "Yeah, for _now_. How long will _that_ last once he gets tired of us?"

"Maybe he will not. We can only hope so."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Have a seat," Vance said. "I just want to clear up a few things before Agent McGee returns to work."

Both Tim and Gibbs remained mute...and if they could have seen the expression on their own faces, they would have seen the exact same awkwardness and tension. Vance suppressed the desire to chuckle. Instead, he focused on the subject at hand.

"Given the situation, do you anticipate any problems obeying orders as given by Agent Gibbs?" he asked Tim.

"No, sir," Tim said. "I can take orders from him."

"Agent Gibbs will _you_ have any problems _giving_ orders to Agent McGee?"

"No, Director."

"Good. I expect there to be a period where you're all getting used to working together again, but I do expect that your work will remain exemplary."

"Yes, sir," Tim said. "I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you both will."

"Agent Gibbs, you will be reporting to me once a week, and Agent McGee, I will expect a report from you as well should I need one."

Tim was surprised by that.

"Yes, sir...uh...how often?"

"I'll give you ample notice should it be required. Just be aware that it might come up."

Tim nodded.

"That's all."

Gibbs had said very little and Tim only slightly more. They both got to their feet and headed for the door.

"Agent McGee, would you remain for a moment?"

Tim stopped and turned back. Gibbs hesitated only for a moment and then continued on his way without a word...but Vance thought he saw an expression on his face that, in anyone else, he would have identified as jealousy...but he had no idea what it was Gibbs could possibly be jealous of in this situation.

After the door closed, Vance returned his attention to Tim.

"You sure about doing this, McGee?" he asked.

Tim took a deep breath and let it out. "I think so. I want to try and get this back, if I can. I don't want to ruin anything here, though."

Vance smiled. "I don't think you'll _ruin_ anything, but I don't want you hurting yourself or pushing yourself to do something because you think you _have_ to."

"I don't...not in the way _you_ mean. I _do_ need to do this, though."

Vance came around his desk.

"How are things going with you and Abby, Tim?"

"We're...going to try and fix things. I feel like there a greater possibility of success than I did before. We'll see. ...um...I'm going to talk to someone about some of the...problems I've been having lately. Abby and I might decide to get some kind of couple's counseling. Not sure about that part though."

"All right. Do you and Abby want to chance dinner with us?"

Tim smiled. "Not...now. We need to take it slow. I'm going to be having lunch with her today...and that's going to be hard enough I think. ...but thanks for the offer."

"Anytime. ...and I mean that."

Tim's smile widened. "I know you do. ...and I appreciate it."

Vance smiled in reply...and started to think he might understand where Gibbs' jealousy was coming from. Tim's interactions with Gibbs had diminished to vague acquaintances while he acted much more open with Vance.

"You can get back to work now, Agent McGee. Good luck."

"Thank you, sir." Tim left the office.

"I think you're _all_ going to need it," Vance said to himself and then got back to work.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Tim got to work doing some computer searches while the others went out to do interviews. Tim was surprised at how much he was enjoying his work. This was the kind of thing that had bothered him in the past: being stuck at NCIS while the others went out in the field...but it had been so long since he'd been able to work at all, so long since he'd felt that his mind was operating at a level which would tolerate this kind of work...it was just _nice_ to be doing something so very normal.

...and as the day went on, he relaxed a little bit in his space. Of course, the sources of his tension weren't around, and that definitely helped, but it was a big difference from his outright fear of coming back. He just hoped that this would work out.

_It can. We don't have to be friends to work together. We can just be colleagues. There's no risk, no worry. They're all good at what they do. I'm good at what I do. We can work together and they can enjoy what they've always had. I'll...have the friends that I can trust. This will work. They won't even miss me._

He thought it, but he wasn't really sure what to expect. Both Ziva and Tony had expressed a desire to be friends again...but he wasn't sure he could actually trust them. He didn't know if he had it in him right now to deal with them in addition to trying to heal the breach with Abby. Gibbs had apologized, and Tim had no doubt that he meant it...but that didn't change what Gibbs had done, didn't change how Gibbs had made assumptions that had been not only wrong but had led to actions that had nearly left Tim dead.

Even if Gibbs was sincere right now, as worried him about Abby, Tim had no guarantee that the situation would be consistent. He remembered what Ducky had said, but he found that he couldn't trust Gibbs right now...and he didn't really want to deal with that.

_One thing at a time. It has to be one thing at a time. Maybe Gibbs wants it to be what he wants...and it doesn't have anything to do with me._

"Tim?"

Tim jumped.

"You looked like you were thinking really hard," Abby said uncertainly. "What are the searches?"

"Oh, I wasn't...thinking about them. Just...everything."

Abby nodded. "You still want to get lunch together?"

"Yeah." One thing that surprised Tim was how much less he was worrying about Abby in the face of worrying about everyone else.

"Where should we go?"

"Just to the food court. No reason to make the trek anywhere else today."

"Okay."

They walked together to the food court. Things weren't _normal_ by any stretch of the imagination, but Tim told himself that this would change. He couldn't expect things to be perfect, or even right, in a single day. It would take time.

They each picked a different place to get their food and then sat together at a table.

"So...how is it going?" Abby asked tentatively.

Tim shrugged. "Awkward. Tense. About what I expected. After a few days, I hope that we'll just get into a routine. They're out working and I'm in the bullpen...until I get cleared for field work again."

"How long will that take?"

"Don't know. Probably a few more weeks so that they can make sure I'm not going to have a relapse or anything."

"Is that likely?"

Tim shook his head. "No. It's not...but they don't want to take any chances. Besides, I still have months to go before I'm allowed to drive."

"That means you get to have a chauffeur everywhere you go!"

Tim smiled a little. "Yeah, that's one way of looking at it."

"It's the best way...since you can't change it anyway."

"True." Tim took a bite of his sandwich and then sighed. "Abby...how did it come to this? Not even just us...but NCIS. It never seemed possible that something like this could happen. Ever. But I found that I was on the outside and hadn't even noticed it before. And people I rarely spoke to are reaching out when they never did before...and the people I thought were friends are the ones I can't trust. It's like the whole world just got screwed up and I don't know how to untangle it all."

"Are you going to try?" Abby asked.

"To an extent. I just want the awkwardness to be gone. We don't have to be friends. They don't have to pretend anymore."

"Tim, they..." Abby stopped and moved on. "Would thinking about something else be better?"

"Depends on what it is."

"You want to go paint shopping this weekend?"

Against his will, Tim smiled. "You're really serious about this?"

"Totally serious."

"Okay. You'll have to drive."

"I know." Abby grinned. "I'll drive."

"I'm not sure this is going to fix everything, Abbs."

"Maybe it won't, but it'll be a start...and it'll fix things neither of us knew were broken before. That's worth something, isn't it?"

Tim looked down at his lunch tray.

"Isn't it, Tim?"

He nodded and looked at her.

"I'm going to go and talk to someone in the next couple of days. Maybe that will help me get more optimistic." He gave a hapless smile.

Abby leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll be patient. We'll all be patient...so you can be patient, too...with yourself."

They finished eating and then walked back to NCIS, not exactly _together_, but not apart, either.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim returned to work, and the rest of the week passed in a simple routine. It wasn't fun by any means, but Tim got accustomed to spending most of his days at his desk in the bullpen. Tony and Ziva would talk some while he was there, but not much. Gibbs, never a chatterer on the best of days, said almost nothing beyond giving orders when Tim was there. Work got done. Tim missed being in the field, but at least he could acknowledge that he wasn't being kept at headquarters because of some secret plan. His doctor was being very careful about letting him resume his former routines.

On Friday, near the end of the day, Gibbs went up to Vance's office and was in there for nearly an hour. After he came out, Tim was called up as well. That made him unaccountably nervous, and he took a deep breath before stepping into the office.

"Agent McGee, have a seat."

"Okay."

Tim sat down and looked at Vance uneasily.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Vance smiled. "I just want to get a sense from you of how this first week has gone. Clearly, readjustments are going to take time, but how do _you_ feel about things?"

"Did Gibbs say something was wrong?"

"I'm asking about _your_ perceptions, Agent McGee, not those of Agent Gibbs."

Tim nodded. "Well...it's still kind of awkward. Um...They're not used to me being there, and they don't feel like they can talk around me yet. I'm bored with the desk work, but I know it's going to be a couple more weeks before my doctor gives me the all-clear. I...I think we're still working all right. I haven't noticed any inefficiencies...and no one has tried to make me feel bad about being here. It's about as good as it can be at this point, I think. I hope...it's okay."

"It's fine, Agent McGee. I wasn't asking you about this to make you question your employment or your location. In the future, I'll give you notice when I'm going to want your feedback on how things are going, but for this first week, an oral account is sufficient."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Do you regret that I'm coming back to my team?"

"No, Agent McGee," Vance said without hesitation. "I hope that things work out, and if they do, I'll be satisfied...but if they don't, I expect you to admit it. What comes of that admission would be my decision to make, but it's one that I'd have to make with the good of the agency in mind. Regardless, I don't want you worrying about whether or not this is going to work. I want you to do your best to _make_ it work, and let it happen as it will. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. That's all."

Tim nodded and got to his feet. He started to walk to the door.

"Try to enjoy your weekend, Tim," Vance said.

Tim turned back and smiled a little.

"I'll try. I think I might."

"Good."

Tim left the office and sat at his desk.

"No point in getting started on anything else, McGee," Gibbs said gruffly. "Might as well head home."

Tim looked at Gibbs, thought about trying to say something, but rejected the idea. Instead, he nodded, gathered up his stuff and then went down to Autopsy.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony looked at Ziva but said nothing until Gibbs got up from his desk and headed...somewhere else.

As soon as he was gone, Tony snuck over to Tim's desk, opened the drawer and let out a whoosh of air.

"How is it _possible_ that McGee wouldn't open that drawer even _once_ this entire week?" Tony asked. "He's _got_ to have opened it."

Ziva sighed. "I guess he has not. It is possible. That is where he usually put his gun, is it not? He has not had reason to use it, has he? So he has not opened the drawer while he has been here."

"I want him to open the drawer!" Tony said. "What's the point in our writing them if he doesn't look at them? And if we move them now it will seem like we just barely wrote them and that won't work!"

"We will have to be patient," Ziva said.

"Easy for _you_ to say. McGee likes you more."

Ziva just smiled.

"Are you being smug?" Tony asked.

"No. I am just glad that you are wanting McGee to like you again."

"Hey, I've been wanting him to forgive me for ages! This is just another step...but I can't take it when McGee won't take that step."

"It will take time, Tony. For both of us. ...and for McGee. Give him time."

"Yeah. I just want...to make it work out. I started this, but I can't end it."

"We will see what happens." Ziva sighed. "Would you like to get a drink?"

"Yeah, sure. Gibbs didn't say we could go, but I think we can. Not like we have anything pressing."

Ziva laughed and gathered her bag and coat. Tony joined her and they got on the elevator and left.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Well?" Ducky asked.

"It could have been better...could have been worse," Tim said. "Abby and I are...going to...do some shopping tomorrow."

Ducky smiled. "For what?"

"For paint. She wants to fix the house so that it's ours instead of hers."

"You think this is a good idea?"

"I like the idea of it...but I don't know if this will be enough."

"And your visit to the therapist?"

Tim shrugged. "It's a start. I know I need the help, but I feel like...well, part of me is scoffing at anything going right...but I'm trying to believe it's possible."

"That's good, Timothy, although I do hope to hear a bit more confidence in your voice."

Tim smiled. "Give me some time. ...and I'm really tired. I haven't done any work for a while, and even though I'm just at my desk...it's tiring."

"Well, I'm ready to leave. We can go, eat dinner...and you can get some rest...for your shopping trip tomorrow."

Tim smiled. "Thanks for everything you're doing for me, Ducky. This can't be easy for you."

"No, but it's all right. You're making some big strides. That's enough for me."

Tim took a breath and nodded.

"First week down. I hope it gets better."

Ducky put an arm around Tim's shoulders. "I hope that you have genuine hope and aren't just using a common phrase."

"We'll see," Tim said.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

_Saturday morning..._

Abby came to Ducky's house and hesitated before knocking on the door. She knew that Tim would be willing to come with her. She just wanted it to be fun. She wanted the two of them to be able to enjoy being in each other's company for a while. She hoped that this would work.

She let out her breath and knocked.

"Come in, Abigail!"

Abby smiled at Ducky's voice and came in.

"I'm in the kitchen!"

She followed his voice, trying not to look for Tim.

"Good morning, Ducky."

"You've got quite the day planned out, I hear."

"Paint," she said.

"Yes, Timothy told me. I'm actually quite happy that he accepted your invitation."

"Where is he?"

"Showering. He said that he didn't know if you'd be wanting to paint today or not, but he was going to shower anyway."

"I don't know if we will be or not."

"Well, you have the whole day for it. I think it will help you both to spend some time together."

"I hope so." Abby hesitated for a moment. "Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"Do you hate me for what I did to Tim?"

"Am I disappointed? Absolutely. Do I think it was a callous and cruel thing to do? Yes."

Abby nodded and dropped her eyes.

"But I also see that you are trying to fix it now. It's not for me to hold a grudge."

Ducky put his hands on Abby's shoulders and then kissed her forehead.

"You have done nothing to me, Abigail, and the person you hurt is the person you should be focusing on."

"I know."

A door opened upstairs and they heard Tim's heavy tread coming down the stairs.

"Timothy, Abigail is here."

Abby raised her eyebrows at Ducky who just smiled. She realized that he was warning Tim so that he wasn't surprised at her presence.

"Already?"

"I was excited," Abby called.

Tim came into the kitchen and, while his smile wasn't quite as open as she might hope, but he _did_ smile.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked. "I haven't. I was lazy this morning."

"I ate before I came, but I can wait."

"Okay."

Tim clearly felt awkward, but he smiled at Abby again as he grabbed a bowl and a spoon. Then, he got some cereal out of the cabinet and turned around.

"Uh...are you going to watch me eat?" he asked.

"Are you saying you'd like to eat alone, Timothy?" Ducky asked, barely suppressing a grin.

"Yeah. I think I am, Ducky."

"Very well. Abigail and I will chat in the study."

"Okay."

Tim waved at them as they walked out.

"Will he take long?" Abby asked.

"I doubt it," Ducky said. "He just felt awkward being the center of attention."

"But he wouldn't have been!"

"He would have felt that he was, and Timothy has become rather sensitive about people watching him lately. It's more to do with his work situation than your marital problems."

"Oh." Abby looked at her hands and then looked up at Ducky. "Thanks for giving Tim a place to stay, Ducky. With everything that's happened...I think that Tim would have left DC completely if...if you hadn't been there to...to defend him."

"It was my pleasure, Abigail, and I'm happy to be of service. Will you be asking him to return home?"

"He told me that he wasn't ready to come back yet, but I'm hoping that he will be soon."

"Don't be afraid to suggest it again if it seems like a good idea to you. Timothy is still in that state of uncertainty; so he might wait."

Abby sighed. "This is so complicated."

"Indeed."

"All this...from one really, really _stupid_ decision I made."

"Yes."

After a few minutes, Tim came into the study.

"I'm ready."

Abby jumped up. "Great! Let's go!"

She almost grabbed his arm, but then she stopped, unsure if she should do that. They walked together out of Ducky's house and got into Abby's car.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So...where do you want to go, Tim?" Abby asked.

"I don't really care."

"Lowe's, Home Depot? Sherwin-Williams?"

Tim smiled. "I don't care, Abbs. You're driving. You can pick."

"But, Tim!"

Tim laughed. "Abby...sometimes, it really _doesn't_ matter. These stores...they're all the same to me. Whichever is closest is fine."

Abby sighed. "I just don't want to mess this up again."

They pulled to a stop at a light and Tim reached out and massaged one of Abby's shoulders.

"Picking a store won't matter, Abby. ...but I'm going to try to be more honest about when things _do_ matter."

"Okay."

"You can pick the store."

Abby laughed a little. "I don't know which one to go to, either."

Tim laughed aloud. "Figures. Which one is closest?"

"Sherwin-Williams is close to our house."

"Okay. Let's go there."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

When they went into the store, Abby brought one of the pillows with her so that they could pick a wall color that would match their new piece of furniture.

"There's a lot of paint in here," Abby said.

"Yeah."

"What do you think?"

"We'll have to have something with brown in it. We can't go black."

"Well, we're already black. We wouldn't need to repaint it the same color."

"True. So...what do you think?"

"You first."

"Well...I'm not sure you'll like the idea, but...I think we should go lighter on the walls."

"How _much_ lighter?" Abby asked.

"Quite a bit lighter." Tim walked over to the paint swatches and started flipping through them. "Like this."

Abby looked at it. It _was_ a lot lighter. Her automatic reaction was to insist on something dark because she liked dark...but then, she realized that the whole point of this was for them to work together.

"Well...okay...but...we need to find something dark to offset that." Abby looked at the swatches herself and she grinned. "Okay, Tim...I have a wacky idea."

Tim smiled in response. "I'm afraid to ask."

"What if we painted the ceiling red?"

"The ceiling?"

"Yeah! We have those cool trim pieces on the ceiling...and all the trim around the windows. We could paint them one color...and then paint the ceiling itself red...to match the pillows!"

"But...the ceiling?"

"It would be fun to try it. I've never done it before."

Tim looked at the swatches for a few minutes.

"So...we paint the walls this lighter color...the ceiling..._red_...and what about the trim?"

"Something darker to go with the couch...um..."

Abby started flipping through the swatches. Tim leaned over her shoulder without thinking. This was as close as they'd been in a long time. He pointed...just as Abby pointed at the same one.

"This one," they said together.

"I think we agree," Tim said after a few seconds of surprised silence. Abby turned around and looked at him.

"It's almost a first, isn't it?"

"For a long time."

"Are you okay with the ceiling?" Abby asked.

"I guess we can try it...but it's going to be weird."

"That fits...doesn't it?"

Tim chuckled softly. "Probably does."

"What about the bookshelves?"

"You know...with the lighter stuff...they might still fit. Let's wait and see if we're going to have to repaint them."

"Okay. How much paint will we need?"

"Let's ask the experts...which I definitely am not." Tim started to look around.

Again, Abby nearly protested that they could figure it out for themselves, but then, she stopped. There was nothing wrong with asking for help. They found one of the employees and explained what they were trying to do. He was interested in their experiment and was able to help them figure out how much paint to buy, whether they wanted gloss or matte, what primer they'd need to cover up the black paint on the walls. They got some rollers, covers, brushes, drop cloths.

Feeling a bit poorer, they walked out of the store and loaded everything into Abby's car.

"So...you want to start?"

Tim looked at her and nodded.

"Yeah. I do have to warn you, though, Abby...that I'm still not at a hundred percent. I wish I was, but I'm not. I'll get tired pretty fast once we start painting."

"Oh...okay!" Abby hadn't even _thought_ of that. "We'll do what we can."

"All right."

They drove to their house, and Abby was insisting on thinking of it that way. She would continue to think of it as _their_ house.

When they got there, Abby sent Tim in with the lighter stuff.

"Be careful! Jethro's missed you!"

Tim laughed...and she loved hearing him laugh. It had been a long time since he'd seemed happy at all.

Inside, Jethro frolicked around Tim, excited to see him...until they were forced to exile the German shepherd to the backyard. The last thing they needed was an excited dog getting tangled in their legs or deciding to play in the paint.

"Where do you want to start?" Abby asked.

"We won't be able to paint it all in a day. We'll have to let parts dry so that we can tape them off. So...do you want to do the trim first or the rest of it?"

Abby was really excited to see the ceiling, but the trim made more sense, and that would tax Tim's reserves less.

"Let's go with the trim."

"All right. You want to tape the ceiling?"

Abby smiled. "Sure. I'll do that. You can tape everywhere else."

"We're going to have to move the furniture into the middle of the room."

"Right."

They worked on that together, and it took only about half an hour to get everything away from the walls and the drop cloth over it all to protect it from any dripping paint. Then, Abby got on the ladder and started taping off the trim on the ceiling while Tim knelt on the floor and started taping off the baseboards. They didn't talk much during this time...but the silence wasn't particularly awkward. They just focused on their tasks.

By the time they'd finished moving furniture and taping, it was getting close to noon; so Abby declared a pause while they got something to eat. Just some leftovers, nothing amazing. While they were sitting together, not working, not painting...then, the silence got a bit awkward.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"How is it going so far?"

"It's only been a week, you know."

"I know, but are you feeling any better?"

Tim looked at his plate and then at Abby. "Sometimes. It's going to take a while, though, Abbs. It's not going to happen all at once."

"I know. I'm not always very patient."

"No, you're not," Tim said, but he did smile while he said it.

They ate for a few more minutes in silence...then, Tim broke it.

"What did we do right, Abby?"

"Huh?"

"In our marriage. What did we do right?"

Abby's heart clenched. "Do you think we didn't do anything?"

"No. I'm asking."

"We never fought about having to work late."

Tim smiled. "No, we didn't. ...I like how we dealt with dinner. Maybe we should have cooked more, but we did it together. I like that."

"What do you mean?" Abby asked. Tim's expression was almost wistful.

"We'd take turns picking it out. We'd have fun with the utensils. We always cleaned up together. It's just nice."

"I liked that, too," Abby said. She hesitated and then added to the list. "I liked what we were doing with the flowers in the back. You know...just after. We were working together."

"Yeah." Tim nodded. He looked at her. "You ready to get back to work?"

"Sure."

They put the dishes in the sink and returned to the living room. They began their first actual painting. They worked in silence for a while.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim had been crawling along the floor while Abby was working on the ceiling trim. It was all right with him to work quietly at first, but he remembered one of the things his therapist had said to him, and he decided he needed to ask the questions. He had been told that his biggest problem was that he avoided confrontation and just gave in...instead of insisting on talking about things.

"So...what did we do wrong?" Tim asked.

"What?"

Tim looked up at Abby. "I don't mean this latest...but just when we were married...and happy. What did we do wrong?"

Abby turned around and balanced on the ladder.

"This house," she said after a few seconds.

"I like the house," Tim said. "You were right about it. It's a good house."

"But...the way I convinced you was wrong. We didn't talk about it. I told you I was right and then I got everyone else to agree with me so that you'd have to go along...because I knew they'd take my side. I didn't want to talk."

Tim nodded. "...and I didn't try to get us to talk about it. I just went along."

"We did that too much," Abby said.

"Yeah." Tim turned back to the trim. "I like this color."

"Me, too," Abby said. "It looks good in here."

"And the wall?" Tim asked. There was going to be a _huge_ change.

"I'm not sure about it...but you're not sure about the ceiling either."

Tim laughed. "No. I definitely am not."

"I like hearing you laugh, Tim. It's been too long."

"Haven't felt much like laughing lately."

"I know."

They worked in silence again. Then, Abby broke it.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe...maybe tonight...you could stay here? Then, we could get up and start working tomorrow. We can get the trim taped off and start working on the primer...and the ceiling."

Tim stopped painting. He hadn't really thought about staying here. He was still feeling worried about these steps he was taking. ...but it made logical sense.

"I miss you being here, Tim. This place...just isn't the same without you in it. It feels...so empty."

"I've..." Tim paused. Could he admit it? Yes. "I've missed being here."

"So...will you stay? Tonight? You don't have to be ready to stay permanently. I understand if you want to take longer...just tonight."

"That's a good idea, Abbs. I'll stay tonight."

"In our room? With me?"

Tim took a breath. Part of him wanted nothing more than to be there with his wife, but another part of him wanted nothing less. He put down his paintbrush and got to his feet. He walked over to Abby and put out his hand. She set down her own brush and climbed down the ladder. She took his hand. Tim hesitated. He hadn't been this nervous the _first_ time.

He looked into Abby's eyes. He saw her own anxiety, her regret. Her worry.

Tim took a breath and pulled her to him.

He kissed her. Tim didn't think he'd really kissed Abby since she'd told him what she'd done. He wanted to know if there was still any spark there.

Abby responded instantly to his kiss, and Tim was almost surprised to find that he felt something himself. It wasn't the kind of passion they'd had before, but Tim would have been shocked if it had been there right now.

...but then, he just decided to forgo any analysis, and just abandon himself to the kiss.

When they parted, Tim felt almost like it was their first kiss ever. He looked into Abby's eyes again and saw hope there.

"With you," Tim whispered. "With you."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

The aftermath of that decision was strangely anticlimactic. They stood there for a little while, staring at each other. ...and then, they went back to work. They finished painting the trim, Abby ordered dinner, and Tim called Ducky and told him he would be staying the night with Abby. They ate dinner together...and then, went out on the patio in the back and sat together as the sun headed for the horizon. There was very little conversation, and perhaps they should have talked more...but they didn't. No, they sat together with Jethro happily lying between them on the ground, remembering how it felt to be in the same place at the same time...with the same intentions.

When the last rays of the sun vanished beneath the horizon, they got up together and went back inside. Tim hesitated but Abby took his hand and led him up the stairs to their bedroom. It was strange, but they fell into their old patterns, their routine, as they got ready for bed. Abby stood in front and washed her face as Tim brushed his teeth standing behind her. She stepped to the side to dry her face as he leaned over the sink to wash out his mouth. Then, they switched places. It was their routine.

With a couple of exceptions.

Tim's pillows weren't hidden and buried. They were mixed in with Abby's pillows. So he silently picked them out and then shoved all of Abby's onto her side of the bed. She grinned at him and shoved all of them but two onto the floor.

"Why do we have so many pillows? There's no way we'll ever need them all," Tim said.

"It looks nice."

"But we're the only ones who come in here."

"I know."

Tim gave up. That was something he didn't think he'd ever understand...but he didn't think he needed to, either. That was one thing he could accept he just didn't get.

He wasn't sure about getting into bed with Abby, though. It was something that made him nervous...just because he was still afraid of letting himself believe that this was real. Abby sat down on her side.

"You ready, Tim?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tim admitted.

She held out her hand.

"Tim?"

Tim took a breath and lay down on the bed. Abby didn't speak. She raised her eyebrows, silently asking if she could come over. Tim nodded, trying to feel that sense of abandon he'd touched when he'd kissed Abby earlier that day. Abby slid over next to him. Another breath and Tim put his arms around Abby, letting her cuddle up next to him. She lay her head on his chest.

"I love hearing your heart beating," she whispered. "I sleep best when I can hear it."

Tim didn't reply. So far, he wasn't feeling as relaxed as would be necessary to sleep. He knew Abby would notice that, but she wasn't saying anything about it. He was grateful. He needed to adjust to holding Abby again.

As they lay in bed, Tim began stroking Abby's arm. The motion calmed him down. Being able to touch her so gently meant something to him.

"Thank you, Tim," Abby whispered softly into the darkness.

That was all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim awakened alone in bed, on his side, facing the wall. Abby wasn't lying on him any longer, meaning that she had already got up. The sun was up. Jethro was probably up. Tim felt like he was the only one still in bed in the whole world...as ridiculous as he knew that idea was.

"Tim? Are you awake?"

Tim rolled over and was surprised to see Abby sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed.

"Good morning," she said.

Tim smiled. "How long have you been up?"

"About half an hour."

"Have you been sitting there the whole time?"

Abby nodded.

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't want to wake you up. I figured you were tired. ...and besides...I like watching you sleep."

"Why?"

"You're just...nice to watch. You're so relaxed."

Tim sat up. "You're saying I'm not relaxed when I'm awake?"

"Not most of the time."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. You're right. I always feel like I'm...on display...too much at work. I'm probably too sensitive."

"That's okay. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Yeah. You ready to do more painting?"

"I'm ready to see the walls and the ceiling," Abby said. "Can we just snap our fingers and have it be done?"

"Doesn't work like that."

"I know. Too bad," Abby said with a grin.

Tim smiled in reply and got up. "What's for breakfast?"

"Cereal?"

"Wow. Gourmet, huh?"

"Nothing but the best."

"Great. I'll get dressed."

Abby bounced off the bed and out of the room, leaving Tim by himself to think. He looked around the bedroom. It didn't quite feel like home yet. He didn't feel like a _stranger_, but it was a bit different. He liked Abby's efforts, and he was glad the duvet was getting used...but it was different. One thing he _did_ like was the wedding pictures Abby had hung up. He couldn't think, now, why they hadn't done it before. They had both agreed that these pictures were the best of the official wedding photos. Why not use them? ...but they hadn't.

Tim got dressed in grubby clothes and went downstairs. As he walked down, he paused, thinking about how he'd felt on the first day, heading for the kitchen for a confrontation. The funny thing was that he had thought he couldn't possibly feel any worse...and yet, compared to that first day, he had sunk quite a bit lower. In the kitchen, Abby had been trying so hard to pretend that she was doing everything right...when everything was just _wrong_.

...and now, they were both admitting that things were wrong...and they were trying to make them right, in some cases, for the first time since they'd known each other.

He had known, finally, that there was no way they could keep going on as they were. What he hadn't realized was that there were many things that couldn't go on. What Abby had done, the way they had tiptoed around the issues, Tim now realized that those were only the tip of the iceberg in the problems they'd had with all that they needed to fix. They were only the most obvious of the problems.

Tim sat down on the steps and thought about the other time he'd been standing here in this place...after he'd lost everything else. Standing there, staring down at Tony who had come, hat in hand, seeking forgiveness for his role in what had transpired. Tim had appreciated the gesture, although with his near death coming very shortly after that gesture, he hadn't really thought much about it at the time. What he had told Tony later on, that he couldn't keep hating Tony but he found it difficult to forgive him...that had been only partly true. It was a lot more that Tim was scared of the idea of trusting Tony or Ziva or especially Gibbs in anything beyond whatever was directly linked to their jobs. They were good investigators, but that was all as far as Tim was concerned. He had allowed himself to think that they were friends as well as coworkers and he couldn't do that again. While he appreciated the fact that they were making attempts to demonstrate their regret, that regret could easily be chalked up to simple humanity. It didn't have to relate at all to any desire for friendship.

Tim could believe that Tony and Ziva truly regretted what had happened and what they had thought, but he couldn't see that translating to friendship. They didn't need to be friends. They just needed to be coworkers. Once he was out in the field again, once he was back to work, things would go back to normal. He just wouldn't be deluding himself anymore.

...and Gibbs. He could believe that Gibbs, once he knew that what he had thought was wrong, had genuinely wished he hadn't done it. ...but that didn't get rid of the fact that he had done it in the first place. No. Gibbs would never have regretted it otherwise. It had likely taken him being given absolute proof before he had even considered that he might be wrong, that Abby might not have been the injured party. So...no. There was no reason to strive for anything more than distant, professional respect.

Tim thought again about Abby. He was glad that they seemed to be making some progress. In a way, it seemed as though the act of working together on a project, spending time together...it was opening up his mind to the possibility of things working out. Would it truly happen? He could now admit that he hoped so. Abby did seem different than she'd been. ...a bit overly-concerned with hearing his opinion, but still, she seemed to care about what he thought. That was new...and appreciated.

"Tim?"

Tim looked up at the sound of Abby's voice.

"Coming, Abbs."

He got to his feet and thumped the rest of the way down the stairs. Jethro barked and ran out of the kitchen, winding himself around Tim's legs. Tim grinned and pet him.

"Good morning, Jethro. Miss me?"

Abby laughed. "He's definitely missed you."

Tim looked up at her. "I've missed him, too. Breakfast?"

"Nothing special. Just cold cereal."

"What kind?"

Abby's smile widened. "It's a surprise."

...which meant Tim knew exactly what to expect. The cereal he always picked out. He followed Abby into the kitchen with Jethro acting like a puppy until he calmed him down.

Sure enough. A box of his favorite dinosaur cereal was sitting out. To his surprise, though, it had already been opened. Abby didn't really care for his choice of cereal.

"Have I converted you?" he asked.

"I was lonely," Abby admitted. "I was looking for anything that reminded me of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I was sleeping with your pillows on the bed. I...I didn't like being in the house without you, Tim."

Tim sat down beside her.

"Did you miss me?" Abby asked.

"I missed...what I had thought we had. I was too upset for a lot of the time."

Abby nodded in acceptance of that.

"I wish I could take it all back."

"Me, too...but you can't. So...we'll have to stop wishing for what we can't have...and try to get something more."

Abby scooted her chair close to Tim and they ate breakfast together.

After breakfast, they went back to the living room. They pulled the tape off the walls around the trim and taped the trim. Then, they got to work with the primer, covering up the dark walls. Tim could see that Abby was less enthusiastic about this, but he was relieved to be able to lighten up the room a bit. With the dark furniture, the dark trim, the dark shelves...and then the dark walls, he felt as though the living room had been a cave. He'd kept the study totally bland just as a way of escaping from that darkness. He had always wondered why it was that Abby preferred the dark walls. It wasn't like her apartment had been completely black and her lab had windows. ...but this room in the house...black...and Tim was really glad it wasn't going to be that way. It wasn't going to be white or anything, but it would feel less like a tomb.

The primer took a couple of hours. It was a quick-drying variety and so once they got that done, Abby ordered Tim to rest while she taped off the ceiling trim so that she could start painting the ceiling...the part Tim himself was uncertain about. While he waited for Abby to finish her part, Tim decided to make something for lunch. Just sandwiches, but he didn't like just sitting around, even if he knew that he needed the break.

Lunch conversation was mostly focused on what they were going to do that afternoon. They wanted to get it done before Monday. Abby focused on the ceiling. Tim focused on the walls. Both of them had to work around some trim, but Abby had more small spaces to paint which took her longer than Tim who could just use the roller. Tim had to take a few breaks, but they had agreed not to look at the whole thing until it was done.

Finally, near five o'clock, they were nearing their end. Tim had to do an extra coat of paint, but that would have to wait until the next weekend. They would both be going back to work.

"Okay, Tim. We can look now."

"But the walls aren't quite done. They need another coat."

"That's okay. We'll get a sense. You ready?"

"Sure."

"Okay...look now!"

Tim turn away from the wall and looked around the room. His eyes were drawn, almost against his will, up to the deep red paint on the ceiling. Abby was looking around at the light-colored walls.

"Well?" Tim asked.

"I think...I'm going to have to get used to it."

Tim smiled. "Same with me. That's a lot of red."

Abby laughed.

"Do you hate it?"

"No. No, I don't hate it."

Abby jumped off the ladder and ran over to him.

"You're sure?"

Tim looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm sure I don't hate it. ...I'm not sure if I like it, but I'm sure I don't hate it."

"Good," Abby said. "I'm glad."

"Do you like it?"

Abby actually giggled a little. "I don't know."

Tim laughed, too, and hugged her. "Well, I guess we have time to think about it."

"We?" Abby asked.

Tim knew what she was really asking...and he wasn't sure of the answer. Was he ready to come back here permanently? He turned to Abby.

"I need a night to think," he said. "Do you mind?"

Abby shook her head, although he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

"You want to have dinner here?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Okay."

They ordered pizza for dinner. Easy, fast, and always good. They ate it in the backyard in order to get away from the paint fumes...sitting together, even managing to laugh a little in light conversation. They'd done a lot of talking about serious things, but Tim knew that they'd have to be able to have fun together if their marriage was going to work. So he didn't mind taking some time just to be together.

After dinner, Abby drove Tim back to Ducky's place and whispered that she'd see him tomorrow. Then, she kissed him quickly and got back into her car. Tim walked inside.

"Timothy? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me, Ducky."

Ducky came out of the kitchen. "And?"

"We're not done painting yet. Not sure how it's all going to look in the end."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." Tim smiled slightly. "I...think that...it was a good weekend."

"So why are you back here?" Ducky asked, returning the smile.

"I'm not...sure I'm ready yet. I told Abby that I needed a night to think. Last night...it was the first time we'd really been together in a while. It felt kind of strange."

"Bad?"

"No...not really. Strange...and a little awkward."

"Both are understandable."

"Yeah. Ducky...I'm kind of tired after today. I'll see you in the morning, all right?"

"Of course, lad. Sleep well."

Tim nodded. "Thanks, Ducky."

"Anytime, Timothy."

Tim got ready for bed and then walked into the spare room. He lay down.

...and he missed Abby.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

Tim got a ride to work with Ducky again, but the thought that had started to form in his mind when he had awakened that morning began to gain strength. Vance walked by his desk and asked how things were going. Tim tentatively suggested that he and Abby have dinner with the Vances sometime in the next week, hoping that Abby would be as eager as he was to continue developing this odd friendship they seemed to have discovered.

While he was sitting there, looking around at his surroundings, he wondered if there was more that he could be doing. He was working on the computer, but there were probably other things he could do as well...like clean out his desk. He hadn't done that in ages, and it probably needed it. He started to open the top drawer where he usually kept his gun when the elevator door opened.

"Good morning, Tim!" Abby said. She walked over. "How are things?"

"Not bad...um...Vance invited us to dinner. I kind of accepted, but I wanted to ask you first. Are you interested in...in keeping up with that?"

"It's kind of weird...but yeah. I think so. The Vances have been really nice to both of us."

"Do you have a preference on the day?"

Abby shook her head. "Nope. No plans. So we can just go on whatever day works best for them."

"All right." Tim smiled and Abby started to walk away, but then, Tim stood up. "Abby?"

"Yeah?" She turned back.

"I...want to come home."

"You do?" Abby asked, her eyes filled with hope. "Are you sure?"

Tim smiled a little. "Not...completely...but if you're ready for that..."

Abby ran over to him and hugged him tightly.

"I've been ready for ages, Tim," Abby whispered.

"I haven't."

"I know, but if you're ready, so am I. We can start working on it together."

"Okay."

Abby let him go and wiped at her eyes a little bit. She laughed.

"I shouldn't be crying right now."

Tim reached out and wiped away the mascara running down Abby's cheek.

"It's okay," he said softly.

Abby covered Tim's hand with her own.

"What made you decide?"

Tim stepped forward and kissed Abby on the forehead.

"I missed you last night. I missed you when I was in bed alone."

Abby hugged him again, but more gently.

"I really do love you, Tim. I know that more than ever now."

Tim swallowed. "And I love you, Abby."

Abby kissed him on the cheek and then hurried down to get to work. Tim sat down at his desk. He was surprised at how things were working out with Abby now that they were finally talking about it all...working together...being honest with each other. Part of him was still worried about this decision. Was it too soon? Too fast? Was he being too optimistic? All the questions piled up in his head, but he focused on that feeling he'd had last night. Lonely...for the first time since he'd left Abby at home. He wanted to be with Abby again, and his therapist had said that feeling that kind of desire was a good thing, not something to worry about.

He decided that cleaning his desk could wait. Instead, he focused on his computer. That was more important.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs withdrew from his place of observation. It hadn't been his intention to eavesdrop...one of the few times he could honestly say that. He watched Tim and Abby...making things better between them. He regretted that Tim didn't seem to feel any desire to do the same for his teammates. Tim's confidence in them had taken a hit, and he wasn't sure whether or not they could even get him to consider the possibility of recovery. Everything he'd observed for the last week had demonstrated that Tim wasn't interested, but he apparently was working with Abby.

If only...

And Gibbs realized that was about the first time he had thought those words.

If only...

_If only I hadn't assumed my first thought was right. If only I'd taken the time to analyze what Tony had said. If only I'd talked to Abby about it first._

...and then, suddenly, another thought took root in his mind.

_If only I hadn't been willing to believe that of McGee in the first place._

Gibbs shook his head and thought of one more _if only_. If only he had been willing to have that be his _first_ thought rather than his last.

Still, it was too late to change all that. He could tell the way that Tim was thinking. He knew it because Tim had told him himself. It was a protection, Gibbs knew, but that didn't change the fact that Tim had decided to believe it. Tim had decided that the friendships he'd had were all false, all products of his imagination. Gibbs could understand that because it gave Tim some protection. He didn't have to try and forgive them. He didn't have to try and renew any connections because he hadn't really had them in the first place.

...and, while Tim may not realize it, he was also making it his own fault. Something he should have seen before. If he had been paying attention, he would have known.

Normally, Gibbs would try and use his own personal brand of encouragement to get Tim to think. ...but that wouldn't work, since Gibbs was a big part of the problem. In fact, he couldn't help wondering whether Tim would have been more willing to forgive and move on if Gibbs himself hadn't betrayed him.

With a deep breath, Gibbs walked out into view. Tim looked up from his computer and noticeably tensed.

"Morning, McGee."

There was a pause.

"Good morning, Gibbs."

For a moment, Gibbs wondered if now was the time to talk. ...but the moment passed and Tim moved on.

"I've got the results from the search. It didn't turn up anything. If PFC James was involved in the smuggling, there's nothing to indicate it in his recent history. I think he's only involved because he was there, not because he's done anything wrong."

Gibbs got the pointed statement that Tim was making. The challenge was in his eyes although he wasn't saying anything directly. Now wasn't the time. They both could recognize that.

"Okay," Gibbs said.

Tony and Ziva arrived together and Gibbs saw a moment of disappointment on both their faces and he wondered why. Again, not the time to ask.

"PFC James probably isn't involved in the smuggling," Gibbs said. "McGee found nothing in his records."

"Nothing at all?" Tony asked. "What was he doing there, then?"

"Yes. There was no reason for him to show up in that particular place," Ziva said. "I trust that your results are accurate, McGee, but...what would this man be doing on the docks at that time of night?"

Tim looked at the computer screen again, and there was a moment when Gibbs wondered if there would be another veiled comment, another dig.

...but he was wrong. Tim looked up with his old expression of discovery. He had realized something. Gibbs was happy to see it.

"His uncle."

That was all he had to say. Both Tony and Ziva followed him along his train of thought.

"He told us that his uncle had been the one who took care of him, that he was the one person he had relied on," Tony said.

"An uncle who has been in trouble in the past for some shady deals," Ziva said. "But smuggling...that is far beyond things falling off the back of the bus."

"The truck," Tony said with a smirk. "But yeah, it is."

"James said that he was worried about his uncle losing his house," Tim pointed out.

"And he's old school," Tony said. "He wouldn't ask for help from his nephew, not if he could do it himself."

"Using techniques he learned a long time ago."

Gibbs nodded. "Pick up PFC James...and his uncle."

Tony and Ziva headed out and Tim looked after them a bit wistfully. He was tired of being stuck at a desk. It hadn't taken long for that to happen. Gibbs was glad that Tim was still eager to work at NCIS, even if his feelings about his coworkers was more uncertain.

"Good work, McGee," Gibbs said, although he wasn't sure if his praise would mean anything to Tim at this point.

"Thanks, Gibbs," Tim said without much inflection. He turned back to his computer. "I'm going to dig a little deeper into Allen James' records. See if there's something more."

"Do it," Gibbs said and headed to the elevator.

He never would have thought that there could be such a difference. The conversations were basically the same as they had been...but beneath the words, there was something else. And Gibbs didn't like it. It was sad.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tim sighed with relief. Alone again. This hadn't been as bad today. Less awkward than before, and it was all business. So it could be done. It would just take some time to get into the groove again. He focused his attention on his computer again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony and Ziva brought their suspects in, and it didn't take long for Allen James to confess to his attempt at smuggling Navy materials once he realized that his beloved nephew was liable to take the blame for it. He couldn't allow that.

Another case solved and through teamwork. A full team, but without the bonds they'd had before. Tony and Ziva both felt the loss keenly. Tim hadn't participated in the bantering, although he'd been pleasant enough. ...but that was it, really. He'd been pleasant, but nothing more than that, as if they were mere acquaintances rather than people he'd known for years.

And it was clear that he _still_ had not opened his top drawer.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim moved back to his home, feeling both apprehensive and excited. He got a ride over with Ducky, just to have time to talk about the sudden decision...although it wasn't as sudden as he had initially thought it was. Going back meant a lot to him because it said that he was ready to try. He wouldn't be going back if he thought the attempt was hopeless. Abby was so excited to have him come back that she threatened to smother him with concern that first night. Tim let her overdo it a bit, but he could tell that wouldn't be fun for very long. When they went to bed, they talked about it, and Tim forced himself to be mature enough to say that Abby couldn't be doing everything for him.

That first night after Tim moved back was much like that night over the weekend. It was quiet, tentative. Tim slept. Abby slept. And they were together.

Tim went to his therapist and asked about maybe adding Abby to his sessions if she was interested, that maybe they could all talk together sometimes. His therapist agreed but emphasized that this had to be an agreed-upon decision, not something Tim tried to force on Abby. Thankfully, Abby was eager to help repair their relationship and she agreed to come.

By the end of Tim's second week back at NCIS, things were looking up for he and Abby. He didn't kid himself that there wasn't a long way to go, but he was starting to feel like they could get there. They'd gone to have dinner with the Vances one night (and come home laden with leftovers) and they'd invited June over for supper one night, but most of the evenings they spent together, working things out, relearning (or in some cases, learning for the first time) how to work together and _be_ together.

At work, things were just...normal. At least, they were the new normal. Tim was still confined to desk duty and would be for another week. He made no effort to hang out with Tony and Ziva and, in fact, spent a lot of time in Autopsy when he wasn't working. Everyone noticed and everyone, even Tim if he were honest about it, knew that this wasn't exactly ideal. Still, they were working well together.

Finally, after Tim had been at work for three weeks, he got the word from his doctor that he could start trying out limited field duty, although he was still under a driving restriction. He was excited about it and told Vance and Jimmy and Ducky and Abby at once. His report to his team was all business, even though he was still happy. Tony almost asked if he wanted to go out to celebrate, but had stopped himself out of respect for what Tim had told him before.

In anticipation of returning to work, Tim stayed late on Friday. He wasn't working on Saturday, and he wanted everything ready for when he was back in the field on Monday. Abby was running some extra tests for Lovitz' team and hadn't minded Tim sticking around, too. He had brushed Tony and Ziva off and Gibbs had vanished wherever he always went.

Tim began cleaning out and organizing the drawers of his desk. He started on the left-hand side, not rushing himself, but rather savoring the opportunity. Carefully, he organized the forms, the papers, some of the little things he kept but probably didn't _really_ need.

Then, he opened up the drawer on the right-hand side where he usually kept his gun.

...and he saw two envelopes there with his name on them. They looked as though they'd been there for a while. He hadn't opened the drawer in ages. Tim looked around the room. No one was about.

What could they be?


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Abby finally finished her tasks and headed upstairs. She hadn't said anything but she was really excited that Tim wanted to wait for her, that they could go home together.

...but when she got to the bullpen, she saw Tim sitting with a preternatural stillness that indicated something had changed.

"Tim?" Abby asked softly.

Tim didn't reply. He was staring at two pieces of paper. She walked over.

"Tim, what's wrong?"

Tim looked at her with a conflicted expression.

"Did you know these were in my desk?"

Abby's brow furrowed. "No. What are they?"

"Letters. ...from Tony and Ziva."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Tim looked at them and then up at her. "Abby, why don't you go home right now. I...need to think by myself for a while."

"Are you sure, Tim? I can wait...even down in the lab, if you want more time."

Tim shook his head. "No. I think this is going to be...a while."

"Tim, you don't have to do everything alone."

He managed a smile. "I know that, Abbs. I really do, but this is something I just need...time to think about." He stood up and hugged her. "One moment at a time," he whispered.

Abby smiled. "Okay. Don't stay here all night. If you need a ride back, just call me. Please?"

"I will. Promise."

Abby didn't ask what was in the letters that had unsettled Tim so much, but this was another time when Tim just needed to think about it by himself, to reason everything out alone before he had to interact with anyone and feel like he was being pressured to make a decision...even if no one was.

She headed out of NCIS, hoping that Tim _would_ call her.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim hadn't actually read the letters yet. He'd got far enough to see who they were from and that they had been written before he came back, but he hadn't read them.

He'd been back for three weeks. These letters had been sitting in his desk...and he'd never known. Did that matter? He wasn't sure if it should or not. Why would they have written him letters? What was the point of that? Were words going to be enough to make him forget what they'd said and done?

The questions were the same questions he'd been thinking for ages. The same questions that built up in his head and swirled his thoughts into places he couldn't really control.

Tim sighed. Part of him wanted to destroy the letters and pretend he'd never seen them. He just knew that Tony and Ziva would be trying to get him to forgive them.

...but that would be wrong. He shouldn't be afraid of anything they had to say. Neither of them were very long. He'd noticed that much before putting them down.

_Just read the letters, Tim. Stop thinking about it and read them. You'll keep thinking about them if you don't._

Nodding to himself, Tim picked up Ziva's letter first. He found it much easier to conceive of forgiving Ziva, although he didn't think he could really go further than that.

_Dear McGee,_

_English is so difficult to master and finding the right words to say what I would like to say to you seems to be impossible. I hope you will forgive me if I am awkward and if I get things wrong._

_First, I wanted to say welcome back. I know you will find it difficult to believe, but I have missed you. Very much. I cannot forget the kindness you showed me when I first came here. No matter what you thought, how I appeared, it was nice to have someone who would be willing to accept and help me, no matter how he might feel inside. Days of not seeing you here have been hard. I look over at your empty desk and it seems so wrong that you are not there, moreso because I had a hand in creating that emptiness._

_That leads to what I wanted to say second. That is that I am sorry. We have been friends but I did not act like your friend. I did not stand up for you and I did very little to stop what was going on all around you without your knowledge. This must seem to you like I am not your friend at all, but I promise that I am or that I would like to be again._

_I hope that, when you come back, you will give me a chance to show you that I am your friend, but I know that it is your choice to say no. If that is what you want, I probably should not insist, but I would like to. That is because I miss our friendship. I am sorry that I destroyed that._

_Ziva_

Tim took a breath, looked at the letter again and then set it down. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a long while. All was quiet around him...which was what he wanted, but at the same time, a distraction from his chaotic thoughts would have been nice, too. Then, he sat back up and picked up Tony's letter. He was much more apprehensive about reading this one.

In fact, he put it down on his desk and got up to pace back and forth for a few minutes. What would Tony have to say that he hadn't said already? What could he possibly say that would make Tim believe anything had changed?

Well, the letter wasn't going away and the only way he could avoid reading it would be by tearing it up. ...and he knew himself well enough to know that it would bug him if he couldn't read it...even though he wasn't sure he _wanted_ to read it. He sat down and picked up the letter.

_Tim_

_Just for the record, this was Ziva's idea. I thought it was a good idea and I decided to write one, too, but it was her idea. I don't know what she wrote. It's probably better and more welcome than mine._

_Well, this is supposed to be a welcome-back letter, I guess. Welcome back. Really. I mean that. I just wish that you were coming back to a place that you really wanted to be. Maybe I'm wrong, but even when you told me that you wanted to come back, I didn't feel like you wanted to be back here with us, really. Anyway, I am glad that we didn't drive you away._

_I keep going over and over what I thought and why I thought it, and I don't blame you for hating me. I think I'd hate me, too. It's all so stupid and not fair. I could keep saying that I'm sorry for forever and I don't think it would be enough, but I'm really sorry, Tim._

_I hope you can be happy working with us, and that you let us in someday._

_Tony_

Tim set down the letter. It wasn't enough. Could anything be enough? He didn't really think so. He sighed.

"Agent McGee, why are you here so late?"

Tim looked up and saw Vance coming down the stairs.

"Just thinking."

"About what, Tim?"

Tim smiled at the change in tone. He was so good at keeping that separation between formal and informal.

"Tony and Ziva wrote letters to me, welcoming me back. They wrote them weeks ago, but I just found them today."

"And?" Vance leaned against Gibbs' desk.

"And..." Tim shrugged. "They apologized...but it's not enough. I just can't understand why they were willing to believe what they did. I don't know why they expect me to forget that."

"Forget? Is that what they're asking you to do?"

"Basically."

"What are they asking?"

Tim looked at the letters. "To be friends again."

Vance smiled. "That's not asking you to forget. That's asking you to move on...and it's probably a good idea, Tim."

"Moving on means being friends again? They stabbed me in the back."

"Tim, I'm not going to tell you what you have to do, but I want you to think about something, okay?"

"What?" Tim asked, and knew he sounded a bit sullen.

"I've kept my eye on you since you've come back. I've watched you all when you're working and I've had the reports from Gibbs. You're all working well. You're all doing your jobs as you were before. ...but none of you are happy about it. Not Tony, not Ziva, not Gibbs...and not you."

"We don't have to be friends to work together," Tim said. "We weren't before."

"You sound like a kid, Tim."

Tim shook his head. "No. I don't have to trust them as friends in order to work well with them. I thought we were friends before and I was wrong."

"I don't think so, Tim."

"No, it's true! I have never had a friend who would have seen me acting differently and thought, 'oh, Tim must be beating his wife!', instead of just asking if something was wrong. Maybe I wouldn't have told them anything, but they both assumed that I had done something wrong."

"Tim, you're working things out with Abby, aren't you?"

"What?" Tim asked, surprised at the shift of subject.

"You and Abby. You're starting to work things out, right?"

"Yeah. We are."

"Okay. And Abby intentionally cheated on you. Your _wife_ betrayed your marriage vows. ...but you're working things out with her, and I think that's a good thing. So don't misunderstand what I'm saying."

"What _are_ you saying?"

"Why can you forgive her but you can't forgive them?"

"Because I can't."

"Why? Just think about it."

"Why?" Tim asked in return. "It's working as it is. Things are getting better with Abby. I'm going back out in the field. We're working well. I haven't lost anything but my naivety."

"I don't know you as well as someone like Ducky does, but you _have_ lost something, Tim," Vance said. "You've lost your faith in yourself. Rather than allowing that they've made a mistake, a bad one, a cruel one, even, you've decided that it's easier just to reject the friendship you had altogether. You're choosing to pretend the friendship never existed rather than risk trusting them again. Now, I'm not claiming they're perfect. They're far from it. I'm not even saying that you have to be friends with them again, but I think that you're doing _yourself_ a disservice because you're telling yourself that you weren't smart enough to see that they weren't really friends. They _were_ your friends, and they would be again if you'd allow it. You've been focusing on your marital problems, and that's good. Marriage and family should come first. ...but friends are important, too."

"Tony thought that it was more likely that I would abuse Abby than that I would just be having an off day."

"But you _weren't_ just having an off day," Vance said with a smile. "It was much more serious than that. Tony's assumptions were wrong, but he was on the right track by assuming that it was something extremely serious going on. He let his preconceptions focus his attention in the wrong place, but his initial thought that something was wrong was correct."

"But he didn't _ask_ me!" Tim said in frustration. "He just figured I'd done something wrong."

"Yes, and that was wrong," Vance said. "It was a terrible assumption he made...and still worse that he spread it around."

"And you think I should just give him a pass?"

"Have you done that? Have you excused him in any way for what he thought?"

"No!"

"Then, I can hardly ask you to. Tim, I'm no expert on making and keeping friends, but I've lived longer than you and I've seen what happens because of grudges. If you can't let this go, it's going to keep eating at you."

"I can let it go without being friends with them again."

"Normally, I would agree with you...except that this is the only thing keeping you from doing it. If you really forgive them for what they've done, you'll naturally become friends again, maybe not all at once, but you're holding them away...because you haven't forgiven them. If you forgive them and trust your own feelings, you'll become friends again."

"I don't _want _to!" Tim blurted out.

There was a moment of silence. Vance raised his eyebrows, not in surprise, but in a kind of _See?_ expression. Tim dropped his gaze to his desk...to the letters he'd written.

"Why not, Tim? Be honest, both to me and to yourself."

Tim was quiet for a few seconds. He'd never thought of it as a choice he was making. It was just a natural sequence from what they'd done. They'd showed how much they were _not_ friends; so there was nothing more to be done.

"Why don't you want to be friends with them? That's your choice, definitely, but at least know _why_."

"Because...if I'm not...friends with them..." Tim said slowly, working it out as he went along. "...then, they can't hurt me again. I won't...feel bad whenever they side with Abby against me. What they did...doesn't matter because I won't be deluding myself that they actually care. I don't have to make sense of it because they're not friends and you don't have to expect people who don't really care to act in your interest. It was a mistake that came out of the fact that they don't really know me. I'm just someone who works here."

"And is that what you want?"

"It's reality," Tim said.

Vance shook his head. "No, Tim. Is that what you _want_?"

Tim began flattening out the folded pages.

"In one week, my wife slept with another man, my friends believed the worst of me, and my boss almost killed me. In the next weeks, I almost died. I almost lost everything. I'm just barely scraping _something_ from all that."

"And you don't think you can handle it again?"

"It's not a matter of _thinking_. It's true. All this...if anything else... I can't deal with it. I don't have it in me."

"I think you're selling yourself short, but Tim, if you're not happy, you're not doing yourself any favors by holding the others away from you. You should keep in mind that all of us make a lot of mistakes. I include myself in that. I'd include any person in that. Some of the mistakes are serious. Some aren't. You have the choice here, but let me try and suggest that you'd be better off letting all this go and seeing how the chips fall once you're not lying to yourself about your coworkers."

"What about Gibbs?"

"What about him?" Vance said. "What he did was worse than the others, I'll grant you, but the same things apply. Maybe he's decided it's not worth it, either. I wouldn't know about that...but you have two people who have already decided that they want to make an effort. Focus on them." Then, he grinned. "Since I'm far from perfect, I say let Gibbs stew for a while."

Tim laughed a little.

"And don't stay here too long. I don't know that you're going to find some eternal truth here that you couldn't find somewhere else."

"Thanks."

"Just think about it, Tim. Not just for them, but for yourself."

Vance headed off to the elevator, leaving Tim alone again.

Tim looked at the letters. Whatever Vance said, it just wasn't that easy. He slid back to his computer and pulled up his word processor. He sat for a few minutes, staring at the screen. Did he really want to let _anything_ out for them to see? Could he trust them enough to ask a question?

He swallowed and typed. He felt like he was taking as much of a risk as he had taken with Abby...only he wasn't as sure that he wanted what might come of it.

_I am afraid of trusting you. If you could believe this of me once, who's to say you wouldn't again? How can I believe that of you when you couldn't stop yourselves from believing the worst of me?_

_Tim_

He looked at it. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say...but he couldn't think of anything better. He printed off two copies, folded them and put one in Tony's desk and one in Ziva's. Then, he gathered his stuff and hurried out of NCIS, calling Abby as he did so.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

_Saturday..._

Tony looked at the folded page.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Did McGee leave you a note?"

Ziva's brow furrowed and she hurried over to her desk. Opening the drawers eagerly, she found the paper.

"Yes."

"What does it say?"

She unfolded it, Tony following suit. Ziva tried to suppress the feeling of disappointment she felt upon reading Tim's note. It was short, and it was less-than-accepting.

"He says that he does not trust me."

"That's what mine says, too."

Ziva got up and walked over to Tony's desk.

"They are the same."

"At least he's consistent," Tony said with a weak smile. "What do we do now?"

Ziva sat on Tony's desk.

"He has asked us a question. Perhaps, we should try to answer it."

"Separately?"

"Maybe we should just do it together. He has asked us the same question. The answer should be the same as well."

"But what is the right answer? I'm beginning to think that saying sorry isn't going to help anymore," Tony said. "We've said it, and Tim even told me that he can accept that I'm sorry. ...but I don't think that's enough."

"What _will_ be?" Ziva asked. "I do not know what else to do."

Gibbs came in, but he didn't tell them to get to work.

"You have to show him that you've changed," he said and sat down at his desk.

"What?" Tony asked, honestly shocked that Gibbs was talking about it at all. He hadn't really since that day in the elevator...in private.

"McGee isn't going to accept you just _saying_ anything. He's heard what you said. He doesn't believe it. He has to _see_ it."

"You are one to talk," Ziva said. "Have _you_ shown McGee that you have changed? _Have_ you changed? You nearly killed him, Gibbs."

This was the first time either of them had blamed Gibbs...aloud.

"No, I haven't shown him that," Gibbs said.

"And are you going to?" Ziva challenged. "You still have authority over him. How can you not try to show him that he can trust _you_?"

"Don't know if he'll ever accept that."

"So you will not try at all?" Ziva asked. "You cannot just give up. Even if it does not work, _we_ are in the wrong, Gibbs. _We_ must do something about it. That is our burden, our just deserts for what we did to him. If it is not enough that we tell him of our genuine regret, then there must be something more that we can do...and we _must_ do it. Not just for us...for him. You have seen him these last weeks. He is getting better, but he is not happy here. He is not happy being with us, and he is not happy with the way things are. He deserves to be happy. I do not know that any one of us can do enough alone to help him, but _all_ of us must try."

"And? What do you suggest?" Gibbs asked.

"I do not know. Sometimes, I feel that I have never known him as well as I should, considering how much I relied on his goodwill in the beginning. Perhaps...perhaps none of us have known him as we should have."

"Ducky knows him. He's the only one who gave Tim a chance to talk instead of just assuming. He's the one Tim trusts."

"Ducky's not perfect," Gibbs said.

"I didn't say he was, Boss...but he's a lot closer to it than we are...at least as far as McGee is concerned."

Gibbs nodded silently.

There was nothing more to say for the moment. But there was a feeling that there was something more coming later in the day; so Ziva subsided and sat down.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs knew that Tony and Ziva were trying to get back in Tim's good graces...no, that they were trying to repair what had been so thoroughly broken. His problem was that he could see Tim's side of it, and Gibbs wasn't sure that there was anything he could do to fix that. He wasn't going to fix things by apologizing more than he already had. He wasn't sure what it would take. In fact, he didn't have much hope that there was _anything_ he could do to make up for what he'd done and what he'd believed about his agent.

The question, then, was whether or not it was worth trying.

Ziva felt it was. Very vehemently. She and Tony were actually becoming closer to each other in their desire to repair the damage. It was Gibbs himself who was becoming distanced from the rest of them...and it was his own fault, more than likely. At about noon, he went down to Autopsy. He knew that Jimmy was off today; so Ducky would likely be alone. It was hard enough swallowing his pride to the degree that he was already. He didn't want an audience for it, too.

He walked into Autopsy. Ducky was, quite shockingly, _not_ working on a corpse. He didn't even appear to be doing paperwork. He was sitting at his desk in his little office, staring off into space.

"Hey...Duck?" Gibbs asked, softly.

Ducky started a bit and then smiled. "Oh, Jethro. Pardon. I was woolgathering. What can I do for you? I was under the impression that you are all wrapping up cases, not starting new ones needing my input."

"That's my impression, too."

"Then, what is it?"

"You have time to talk?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah."

Ducky looked at his desk and then nodded.

"Yes, I believe I have some free time. In here or elsewhere?"

"Outside."

"All right."

Ducky was plainly curious but he saved his questions for later. He started toward the exit but Gibbs stopped him. It suddenly occurred to him that Tony and Ziva might be up there and they might want to talk to Ducky themselves. Gibbs didn't begrudge them that, but he wanted to keep this conversation private for the moment.

"Wait. Let's go out through the garage."

Ducky raised his eyebrows but acquiesced. "Very well."

Gibbs led them out of NCIS and over to the Barry. He skipped the tour and went onto the deck. Then, he leaned over the far side and stared down at the Anacostia, trying to figure out just what it was he wanted to say.

"What is it, Jethro?" Ducky asked, understandably confused. "I don't mind this little excursion, but you asked to _talk_ to me, not just wander."

Gibbs took a breath and just decided to let the chips fall where they may. It wasn't like he was making any progress on his own.

"Is there any way of fixing this, Duck?"

"Fixing what, Jethro?" Ducky asked, almost gently.

Gibbs could tell Ducky knew exactly what he was talking about, but for whatever reason, he was going to force Gibbs to verbalize it.

"Fixing my team. It's falling apart around my ears, and I don't know if there's anything I can do to stop it."

"From what I understand, you are working together fine."

"Working, yes."

"That's all Timothy wants, you know."

Gibbs pushed himself up from the railing and looked at Ducky directly.

"No, it's not. ...and I'm not saying that because I want it to be true. I've seen the way they're interacting. I'm the one who always throws a wrench in the works because every time McGee sees me, he remembers what I did, and by extension, what Tony believed and Ziva failed to stop. If I wasn't there, I think he'd mellow a bit. He doesn't really _want_ it to be just work. He's convinced himself that that's all there ever was, that he never meant anything more to anyone than that. And he's _wrong_...about Tony and Ziva."

"But not about you?"

Gibbs exhaled loudly and started to pace. It was like all the words he'd kept inside throughout this mess were coming out in a big tangled mass. All at once.

"I don't know, Ducky. I really don't know. Before all this, I would have said me too...but with what I did, what McGee said, what I was so _sure_ of...if he _was_ more than an employee to me, I sure didn't ever show it, and I'd hate to think that this is what McGee was experiencing all these years. ...but I _was_ concerned about him. Not because he worked for me but because he was a human being. I didn't show it very well. There's something about him that...I don't feel like I can touch it."

"Timothy is...or _wasn't_ broken. Ziva and Anthony were in their own ways. Abigail...she was your family replacement, again in her own idiosyncratic way. She broke through your barriers because she refused to acknowledge that they were there, and you didn't really want them anyway; so you let her. No one else has managed that so handily, but it's easier for you to let people in when you can see that they need you. Timothy has a wonderful, supportive family. He has an outlook on life and an experience that you can't even conceive of."

"Yeah."

"But Jethro..._that_ is where you went off track."

Gibbs furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You assumed that there was no need because it wasn't expressed or presented in a form with which you are familiar. Timothy doesn't need a father figure. He doesn't need a teacher as such. He needed a mentor...and I'm not speaking of his training as an agent. Timothy has looked on you as a font of wisdom. Someone who has access to stores of learning that he has yet to touch. As such, you are an object of admiration, one who intimidates him_ because_ of your knowledge and experience. I don't know this for certain, but I'd guess that Timothy is a person who found friendship in his teachers and professors through his thirst for knowledge. It started as a simple one-way interaction and grew into friendship through the years. It is how he knows to interact with a person in authority. When you threw that ill-fated punch, you not only injured Timothy physically, but subconsciously, you also betrayed that position you held in his eyes. It is, in a more serious way, as if you purposefully humiliated a star student in a classroom because he slipped once in his participation...or because you _thought_ he had when he hadn't. This was an act of betrayal, Jethro...and to reconcile it, Timothy has rejected everything he thought he understood. He thought he had friends. Not anymore because friends don't do what Anthony and Ziva did. He thought he had a mentor. Not anymore because a mentor doesn't betray a student."

"If you knew all this before, why didn't you say it?"

"Because I didn't think you were ready to _hear_ it, Jethro. I didn't think you could hear and really _listen_ to what I'm saying. You want to fix things, and I'm glad. I don't have all the answers, but it will take more than an apology."

"I tried talking to him about it, Duck. It didn't help."

"You talked once. Have you done it since he's returned?"

"No."

"It will certainly take more than talking, but it _will_ require some conversation. Timothy needs to be able to _think_ about things. He needs things to be spelled out for him. After his conversation with you, he told me that he could accept that you were sorry _now_. The problem is that you weren't sorry _then_."

"I can't go back in time."

"I know. Timothy would like to be able to do that himself, but he knows it is impossible."

Gibbs leaned against the railing again.

"I've screwed up before, Ducky, but not like this. I've never been so...wrong about a person before."

"Welcome to the human race, Jethro," Ducky said drily.

"It's not that simple."

"I know. I can't give you the solution to this conundrum, nor even tell you for certain if there _is_ one. Only Timothy knows...and he may not, either. If you speak to him about it, you may get him thinking as to whether or not there _is_ a possibility. What if you don't like his solution?"

"He deserves a chance to talk. I didn't give him that before."

"One word of caution."

"What's that?"

"Don't let your guilt get in the way of doing what is best for everyone. You made a mistake, to be sure, a grave one. It may not be resolved as you would like, but whatever is done must be done with a larger perspective. Timothy will _not_ thank you for putting him above everything else. That's not what he wants."

"What _does_ he want?"

Ducky sighed and looked at Gibbs almost with pity...an expression Gibbs wasn't sure he'd ever seen that before. Ducky patted him on the shoulder like a teacher might with a child who is still off on the wrong course in spite of special attention.

"Timothy wants to be seen as a human being who is valued, Jethro. He is not merely your employee. He is not an extension of the computers he understands. He is not an interloper. He is himself, someone with value just in himself, not as an extension of someone or something else."

Gibbs nodded...and let down his guard even more.

"I don't know how to show him that."

"It won't happen quickly, but you need to let him know that you're aware of the necessity for change. He himself is seeing the need to change. Timothy is far from perfect and his tendency toward perfection_ism_ has made the situation harder than it might be otherwise. There are changes that have been necessary for years. Abigail has begun to change. Timothy has begun to change. You all need to change rather than try to push everything back into what it was before. What it was before was not good enough. ...and, Jethro, I can only count myself lucky. I'm far from perfect myself, and had I heard about the rumors going around NCIS, I may have given in to the same flawed reasoning the rest of you did...but I saw Timothy first."

Gibbs nodded, although he was skeptical that Ducky would have made the same horrible mistake the rest of them had.

"Jethro, if this is something you genuinely wish to fix, then you will have to be willing to work hard for it. It won't be enough just to avoid the mistake you made before. You have to be willing to _do_ things you should have done before. Timothy and Abigail are repairing their marriage. They are forming a true pair as opposed to two people living in the same house. You must be willing to work to create a true _team_, not just people who happen to work together. ...if that's what you want."

"I thought that's what I had before. I was wrong. If we were a real team, this wouldn't have happened."

"Likely not, although it's impossible to know for certain."

"Yeah. By the way, Tony and Ziva want to talk to you about what they can do."

"You all see me as a source of knowledge about Timothy."

"You're the one who didn't screw up. ...but McGee has started _kind_ of talking to them about it. They're just not sure of where to go from the beginning they've managed to make."

Ducky nodded. "I will keep that in mind. I should probably get back to my work. Are you coming?"

"No. I'm going to stay here a bit longer."

"Don't forget your work."

Gibbs chuckled. "I won't."

"Good."

Ducky patted Gibbs on the shoulder and then walked away. Gibbs watched him go and then turned back to the Anacostia. He had to admit that talking so openly to Tim actually scared him a little. ...he could admit that to himself, but confessing that to someone else was something all together different.

...but if he wanted to do something to save his team, if he wanted to fix what was broken, he had to make an attempt. He would have to _talk_ to Tim, and he would do Tim the courtesy of doing so on his own turf. Tim would get the home court advantage this time.

He actually envied Tony and Ziva because they were actually able to think about something improving. He just couldn't see that in his own case as yet. He wanted to _do_ something about it...if he could.

If Tim was willing to allow the possibility.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Tim let out a whoosh of air and looked around at the walls and ceiling. It was growing on him...slowly. The ceiling was so...vibrant. It needed the calm of the wall color to keep it from overpowering everything else.

All in all, it was...not bad.

"Well?" he asked.

Abby put down her roller and looked around as well. They'd spent all day putting the second coat on the walls and touching up everything else.

"It's funky," she said with a smile.

"Is that good or bad?" Tim asked, returning the same smile.

"Not sure. I'll get back to you on that."

She looked at the walls and then the ceiling and then the bookshelves.

"It a good thing we have these darker bookshelves. I think it would be too much without the darker wood."

Tim laughed a little. "Are you _sure_ you like this, Abby? You don't have to."

"I never thought I would admit that the lighter color worked better, Tim, but it does. I don't have to be right all the time."

The tone of her voice told Tim that she was trying to convince herself of that as much as anything else. Still, the fact that she was saying it...and _meaning_ it was important. He walked over to her and stood beside her as she took in the dramatic change to the decor. This is the room where they would entertain guests. This was the room that visitors would see. Instead of boldly declaring the presence of someone who loved black, it was softer, more welcoming. Some dark colors, some light, some extremely bold (like the ceiling). Instead of being almost challenging, it was interesting and invited questions.

Abby leaned against him and smiled.

"I like it, Tim."

"So...we didn't fail in redecorating the living room. Go us."

Abby turned around and hugged him.

"I just want it to _stay_ us, Tim. I came so close to ruining everything. I don't want that to happen ever again...because I _know_ that it'll be too much if it did and I'd be throwing everything away...and I won't."

"I hope not," Tim said. He looked at the room again. "Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to come with me to my next session?"

"If I can."

"Okay."

They stood in silence for a little while longer.

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

"About what?"

"About Tony and Ziva...and...Gibbs."

Abby pulled away and looked distressed.

"I don't know, Tim!"

"But do you _think_ I am?" Tim asked.

He could tell that she didn't want to answer the question, that she was afraid of what he might take from her answer, whatever it was. He persisted.

"The thought of trusting Tony and Ziva to be on my side in anything not directly related to work terrifies me. The idea that Gibbs might actually value me as a human being and not just as a tool is something I find laughable. Do you think I'm wrong?"

Abby bit her lip and sat down on the couch. The almost-comfortable feeling that had been engendered by their working together on the room was gone. Tim regretted banishing it, but he was really asking the question. This wasn't some kind of test to see if Abby would always follow his lead. He didn't think she should. He wanted to know what _she_ really thought.

"Abby? Please?"

There was a long silence. Abby stared at the floor.

"Yes, Tim. I think you _are_ making a mistake."

"Why?" Tim asked. He _needed_ to know.

"Because you're pretending that nothing that came before all this means anything. That the times when Ziva was friends with you don't mean anything. That when Tony was on your side, when you two were having fun together, that those things don't mean anything...and I think that's wrong. ...but I'm not you and maybe I'm wrong. I just think that...that you're giving _me_ another chance. I think they deserve one, too."

"And Gibbs?"

"I don't know, Tim. I really don't. Gibbs...he...he almost killed you, and he was so wrong about that...and I haven't known what to do about him since...since all this started. _I_ want to forgive him, Tim...but I can't. Not if you don't." She looked up and there were tears in her eyes. "This is one place where I have to be on your side. What Gibbs did to you...you could have died and...and I can't say that it's okay. It's _not_! ...and I have to follow your lead on Gibbs, and I will. No matter what." She got up and walked over to him. She took Tim's left hand in her own and ran her fingers over the wedding ring. "I've been learning how important this is, Tim. I think that you're wrong about Tony and Ziva, but...but whatever you're going to decide about Gibbs...I'm with you on it. No matter what."

Tim nodded and entwined his fingers in hers. Then, he lifted his right hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"What if I can't work with him?"

"What will you do?"

"Ask to be transferred, I guess."

Abby nodded slowly. "If I had to, I'd come with you...but I'll be honest, Tim. I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me, too. I don't want to leave."

"Okay. We'll see."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"The room looks good, Tim."

Tim smiled. "It does. ...maybe we'll have to tackle the study next. Make it less of my hideout and more of a real room."

"Maybe...but maybe we should take it slow and get used to this room, first. We have time."

"Yeah, we do."

"And I'm really glad, Tim."

"Me, too."

"Are you hungry?"

Tim smiled. "I think I'm getting high off paint fumes. Maybe we should go out."

"Okay. We'll open the windows and let the room air out and have dinner."

"Sounds good."

They both headed upstairs to get changed. Abby showered while Tim took Jethro for a quick run. When he got back, Tim showered while Abby was getting ready. Then, they headed out. It would mark the first time they'd really done something together in public (lunch at the Food Court on the Yard didn't count) since the whole mess had started.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs was sitting in his basement. Thinking. Although he wouldn't consider himself to be the intellectual Tim was, Gibbs did do quite a bit of thinking. It was easier than talking. ..but right now, he was thinking about his own thought processes...and that was harder.

What was it about Tim that had made Gibbs feel he had the _right_ to attack him without verifying anything? Tony, while first putting the notion in his mind, certainly hadn't urged him to physical violence. He had simply been worried. What could have made him act so out of his own perceived character? Why would he, who had kept himself from punching the lights out of rapists and murderers, be willing to attack one of his own?

_Because it seemed like a betrayal._

But that wasn't enough because Gibbs had set aside the usual procedures, things that should have been automatic, in favor of letting white hot rage take precedence...and it had been willingly done. He could have controlled his anger but he had chosen not to.

Why?

Tim had thrown a possibility at him, that Gibbs resented Tim taking Abby away from him, but that couldn't be it, could it? Gibbs thought of Abby as a friend and occasionally, almost a surrogate daughter. Almost. Abby was a person who wouldn't _let_ people be at arms' length. It wasn't in her genetic makeup. He couldn't be jealous about Tim marrying her, could he? After all, it wasn't as though Abby wasn't still her usual effusive self. Their relationship really hadn't changed.

As much as he hated to rehash it, Gibbs thought back to that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Tony had asked to talk to him. They'd all noticed the difference in Tim and Abby. Gibbs had assumed that there had been a fight and that Tim had done something. Not something serious, but something stupid. Then, Tony had come to him and told him about the conversation he'd overheard.

And Gibbs had suddenly thought back to all those cases of domestic abuse. No one had ever realized. Everyone always had an explanation, including the victim. The nicest people had been the ones with the worst secrets. He had gone down, intent on talking to Abby.

And that bruise, the black eye. The tears in her eyes when she thought she was alone. Something was wrong and she hadn't come to him. She had complained when she and Tim had got into arguments in the past. This wasn't just a silly argument. It was clearly something serious. And Abby wasn't telling him about it.

Abby was hurting, physically and mentally...and even if her husband hadn't actually _done_ anything, he should have stopped Abby from hurting. That was his job.

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. As he thought about it, he could honestly say that punching Tim was a last-minute decision. He had planned on reaming Tim. He had planned on pushing him to take responsibility and he would have drawn any confession of weakness had been planned.

...but then, Tim had come in and seemed almost happy. He was happy and Abby was clearly miserable. The plan to make Tim ashamed of his behavior (no matter _what_ it was) had been tossed out the window and he had fully embraced the fury.

And with that moment of incredible stupidity, Gibbs had torn everything apart. His team was on shaky ground at best. Tim was only barely getting back to a state in which he could do any work at all. Abby actively avoided him. Tim's magnanimity had saved him from spending years in jail, from losing his job. That rankled. Tim shouldn't have let him off. Tim shouldn't have given Gibbs the chance Gibbs had refused to give him. Tim should have let him have it.

...but he hadn't. This was another piece of evidence that told him that he didn't understand Tim at all. He could see that Tim didn't forgive him. He could see that Tim hated what Gibbs had done to him. ...but he hadn't seen to it that Gibbs was punished.

Why?

His thoughts went around in circles, over and over, but they always came back to that one question.

Why?

Why had he been so wrong?

Why had he misunderstood Tim so thoroughly?

Why had he felt that he had the right to interfere?

Why?

_Is there anything I can do about it?_

Gibbs wondered if there was. He wondered if there was any hope of redeeming himself in Tim's eyes. If their situations had been reversed, Gibbs was fairly certain that Tim would be in prison right now. At the very least, he would be off Gibbs' team.

He was going to have to lose all his pride and really talk to Tim. More than the shamed near-silence that Tim had brought with him the first time.

_...and I need to call him first._

That was a new thought. Gibbs had been planning on showing up at Tim's house, but no. Not this time. He'd have to give Tim the chance to say no to him. He had to give Tim the chance to refuse. He didn't want to. It wasn't his way, but he had to. This time, he _had_ to do this on Tim's terms. That included whether or not they talked at all.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Gibbs pulled out his phone and dialed Tim's number.

It rang...and rang...and rang. Gibbs wondered if it was because Tim just didn't have it with him or if he was staring at the phone and wondering whether or not he wanted to answer it.

"_Hello."_

A fairly lackluster greeting, but Gibbs knew that he didn't deserve anything different.

"Hi, McGee."

"_Is there a case?"_

"No."

Man, this was hard.

"_What is it, then?"_

Tim's voice was not _cold_, but it wasn't welcoming, either.

"I'd...like to talk to you."

"_About what?"_

"All this."

"_That's pretty all-encompassing, Gibbs."_

"About..." Gibbs forced himself to admit it aloud. Again, this wasn't something he did. If he was wrong about something, he just moved on. Why bother talking about it? "...about my betrayal...of you."

There was a long pause. Gibbs got the sense that he'd actually managed to surprise Tim just a little bit.

"_And when do you want to do this?"_

"Whenever you have time."

"_Not when I _want_ to?"_

There were a few unspoken words wrapped up in that question.

"I doubt you'll ever _want_ to. Neither will I. I think we need to talk, though."

"_Maybe we do. Tomorrow. Afternoon. You can come over when you're ready. We'll be here."_ Tim cleared his throat. _"Is that everything?"_

"Yeah."

"_Bye, Gibbs."_

"Bye, McGee."

There was a click, signaling the end of the conversation...such as it had been.

Awkward, but Gibbs thought of something else. He tossed his phone onto a table.

"Rule #1: Never screw over your partner. Rule #4: The best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself. Rule #5: You don't waste good. Rule #8: Never take anything for granted. Rule #42: Don't accept an apology from someone who just suckerpunched you. Rule #51: Sometimes, you're wrong." He let out a whoosh of air. "Rule #45: Clean up your own mess."

How many of his own rules had he broken? At least four, probably more. He had a rule to explain why Tim hadn't said anything. He had a rule that should keep Tim from accepting an apology. ...and he had been trying to avoid cleaning up his own mess.

That much, he could at least start trying to fix. He could only do so much, but he could try to do _something_ instead of accepting the way things were. The way things were wasn't good for anything, including Tim.

He could try to do things right this time.

...and maybe it would actually help.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

_Sunday..._

Ducky set out a lovely tea...for three. He smiled to himself as he thought about how nice it was to know people were coming in advance. He enjoyed visitors at any time, but it was better when he knew so that he could make adequate preparations. He liked to play the host, even for a serious conversation, as he knew this would be. Tony and Ziva had cornered him and asked him for help, but he had chosen to put them off until the next day, knowing that this conversation would be difficult, and knowing also that he was far from all-knowing in this situation.

However, he had to admit that he was eager to find out what it was Tony and Ziva had to say. It was, possibly, the first time they had wanted help and asked for it. He was curious about what had led them to his door.

There was a knock and he went to open the door and let them in.

"Good afternoon, Anthony, Ziva. Please, come in."

Tony and Ziva looked a bit sheepish standing on his stoop, but they came inside willingly enough.

"Now, I've just put out some tea; so come with me and we'll have our talk."

They followed meekly behind Ducky into his kitchen, to the small breakfast nook. It seated four if necessary, but three fitted quite comfortably.

"Now, you said that you wanted my advice. What has led to your needing it?"

Tony and Ziva exchanged glances and then Ziva pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.

"Tim wrote this letter to each of us. It says the same thing. We had written him letters welcoming him back. I do not know what Tony wrote in his, but mine was an apology and telling him that I am glad he has come back."

"Mine was basically the same," Tony said.

Ducky read the short letter and nodded.

"And what conclusions did you draw from this?" he asked.

"Well...that we obviously don't have a clue what the right thing to do is," Tony said. "McGee told me that he could forgive me for what I'd done, but not for thinking that he could abuse Abby in the first place. ...and now, with what he wrote there...I don't think that saying sorry is going to be enough."

"What will it take for him to forgive us?" Ziva asked simply. "He has come back, but he does not seem happy at NCIS...with us. I do not want him to go, but I want him to be happy, even if that means somewhere else. We have talked about it, and we do not know what we can do."

Ducky took a sip of tea and thought about it.

"Well, I don't know if I can give you any certain answers, but...Timothy has asked you a good question. Since you have betrayed him once, how can he be sure that you won't completely misjudge him again?" He looked at Tony. "He doesn't fault you for going to Jethro because that is what procedure requires in the case of suspicions of abuse. He can forgive you because that doesn't require any _real_ forgiveness."

Tony's eyes widened. It was clear that he'd never thought of it in quite that way. Ducky smiled sympathetically.

"You have been thinking that he had forgiven the worst thing?"

"I guess so...I hadn't really thought about it like that," Tony said.

"I suggest that you do. Once the suspicion had entered your mind, you were bound by the _rules_ to tell someone about it. Timothy is a rule-minded person, generally speaking. He won't fault you for being the same."

"...but I shouldn't have thought it at all. I misjudged what I heard, and he was acting so weird that..." Tony shook his head. "It doesn't matter what excuse I have. It doesn't change what I did and that it was wrong."

"No, it doesn't, but it might do you good to _think_ about it. You made an incredible leap from Timothy acting out of the ordinary to Timothy being an abusive spouse, something that _should_ have been well beyond the realms of possibility. How did it come about?"

Tony looked extremely uncomfortable at relating behavior he considered shameful now. He hitched one shoulder and dropped his eyes to his teacup.

"McGee had been...acting weird. At first, I thought it was just another argument. Married people fight, and Abby would tend to have the upper hand in any fight just because she knew how to make Tim feel guilty."

"Did you think Timothy had done something wrong, then?"

"No. I figured he'd said something stupid and Abby had taken it in the worst possible way, and I knew that she'd complain until Tim apologized. Best to just get it over with as fast as possible. That's what Tim usually did."

"And you thought that was best?"

"It kept the peace."

"At whose expense?" Ducky asked mildly.

Ziva had not yet looked away in shame. She was simply nodding in acceptance of her own complicity...but she did not speak, either.

"Regardless," Ducky said, moving on, "what moved you from thinking this was a simple spat, common enough, to thinking that your friend was abusing his wife?"

"Tim was...really mad about something, and he wouldn't talk about it. He wouldn't talk to me, and Abby was avoiding everyone, too," Tony said, almost mumbling, much as a guilty child would do when caught breaking the rules. "I went down to the lab to see if I could get Abby to talk about it because, if it was just a fight, she'd tell us like she'd always done. They were fighting, and I heard all this noise and then Abby said that Tim had hurt her. She was crying, Ducky!" Tony looked up, almost defiantly. "It wasn't normal! It was weird and it was wrong, and...and I...then, I thought of something as weird and wrong as I was hearing. Once I'd thought of it...I couldn't let it go." He sighed. "Ziva told me to keep it to myself, that I shouldn't tell Gibbs. I should have listened to her. But I couldn't think of anything that would explain how wrong this was."

"Infidelity never crossed your mind?" Ducky asked.

"Of course not! Tim wouldn't!"

"And you thought the error could only be on Timothy's side, not on Abigail's?"

Ziva stepped in.

"We did not think it possible of _either_ of them, Ducky," she said. "They are both too...too innocent in their own ways to go that route. Or so I would have said."

"And yet, you felt it possible that Timothy could be abusive."

"No. Not really. I did not think it was true, but...I did nothing more than say so. I could have warned Tim that it had been said. I could have told Abby what was going on and insisted that she tell me what had happened when she had her black eye. ...but Tony is right. Once it had been said, it was hard to ignore. I am sure that we should have, but it was hard not to. We have seen, all too often, the seemingly-innocent being the guilty."

Ducky nodded. Ziva's was an approach of practicality. She didn't think it was possible, but she had to entertain it once it was suggested. She felt bad about it, but it was a process borne, not of suspicion, but of habit. It was understandable, but far too cold for someone who had been as close to Tim as Ziva had been. Perhaps her seeming coldness had been a defense, but Tim had suffered for it.

"There is no good reason for what we..._I_ thought," Tony said. "I can't give a good reason for it, but I hate that I thought it at all, Ducky. I wouldn't ever go that way again. I've learned my lesson."

"And yet, even now, you focused on the idea that Timothy would be automatically at fault in any argument."

"Not really," Tony said. "It's just...easier."

"I would suggest that this attitude is not conducive to your proving to Timothy that you are trustworthy. Your mental processes still trend toward blaming him...and, in reality, unless they both come to you directly, you shouldn't be involving yourselves in Timothy and Abigail's domestic problems at all. ...and even then, I'd be leery about getting involved. Don't forget that you are friends with _both_ of them. Do you really want to alienate one at the expense of the other?"

Ducky could see that neither of them had even _considered_ that was what they had been doing. He knew that Abby made her issues known to anyone and everyone, but that was all the more reason that the others should stay out of it. Were they _really_ on Abby's side every time? Likely not, but because Tim didn't make issue of it and Abby did, they went for the easier solution: Side with Abby so she'd be quiet.

"I think that both Abigail _and_ Timothy have learned some important lessons about the nature of married life, and should they continue on the track they've begun, you'll find that kind of thing happening much less. Even so, you should not take sides."

Tony nodded. It was easy enough to see and agree once the point had been made, but this wasn't the heart of the matter. It was the _easier_ part of everything.

"Now, there is the problem you face in trying to get Timothy to trust you. Here is where I don't know what the answer is, but I would make suggestions...and suggestions only. I am not Timothy. I don't know all that is going through his mind. He is working through his own issues that were caused by this whole mess...and it will all take time, but here is my suggestion: You should start trying to get Timothy to do things with you again. Invite him out with you when you get a drink after work. Ask him if you can grab lunch for him. These normal things that used to be done without thought."

Tony started to shake his head. "But, Ducky, Tim told me _not_ to invite him when he came back to work! I don't want to go against him. He said he'd tell me if he was ready. I don't want to go against him on that! I said I wouldn't!"

"That is to your credit, Anthony. As I said, this is only a suggestion, but while I think Timothy was sincere out front, inside, he is likely wondering if you're even interested. If you demonstrate your continued interest in associating with him outside of work, he might allow himself to consider the possibility that you care."

"We do!" Ziva said. "If we did not, we would have given up long before this."

Ducky smiled sympathetically. "I understand and I believe you, Ziva, but I'm not the one you have to convince. Timothy is and he will be much more skeptical."

"Do you think the solution may be so simple?"

"Yes, although I think you may find it to be more difficult than it seems."

"Because he'll say no," Tony said. "He doesn't trust us. He doesn't want to hang out with us."

"That is where I think you're wrong, although Timothy would likely agree with you. I think he _wants_ to hang out with you and wants to feel like he can...but he doesn't right now, and if you don't invite him, _he_ will never take that step, no matter how much he might be aware that he wants to."

Tony and Ziva were quiet for a moment. Ziva took a sip of tea and then smiled.

"You see why we wanted to speak with you, Ducky?" she asked.

Ducky smiled back. "I am far from perfect, Ziva. I may be completely wrong, but this is what I have gleaned from my observations of Timothy over the last few months."

Tony looked at Ziva.

"I think you should start first. Lunch tomorrow?"

Ziva smiled. "Yes, I will try it." Then, she sobered and looked at Ducky. "Do you think we should continue with the written notes?"

"That is your decision. What do _you_ think?"

"I'm thinking that it might be good to keep it up. Tim is saying things to us with this. That's something."

"I am all right with that," Ziva said. "We should write something tonight."

Tony grinned, finding some of his whimsy in the midst of his worry. "I'm fine with that, too."

"Don't rely on it too much," Ducky cautioned. "The written word should not take the place of face-to-face conversation."

Ziva nodded and took a final sip of her tea. "Thank you for the tea, Ducky. I think we should go. Tony?"

Tony gulped down the rest of his tea and grabbed a couple of scones.

"For the road," he said.

"Feel free," Ducky said. "I certainly don't need to eat them all myself."

Ziva leaned over and kissed Ducky on the cheek.

"Thank you for everything else, too."

Ducky caught Ziva's hand and gallantly kissed it. "You are most welcome, my dear."

They left the kitchen before Ducky could see them out. They had a purpose and a goal and their personalities needed action to feel as though they were making progress. They did not take sitting around very well when there were problems they could see.

Ducky hoped that his advice would serve them well. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he wasn't sure what the solution would be. He did want these things to be resolved...but to be resolved in such a way that it was better than it was before, _not_ the same as it was before.

As he stood to clean up the remains of his tea, he felt some faint stirrings of hope that all might indeed be well.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Abby woke up Sunday morning alone in the bed. Tim had managed to get up without disturbing her. It wasn't something he always could do, but he had today. Abby laid back with the duvet covering her legs and tried to be happy. She was glad that Tim was back. She was glad that Tim was sharing a bed with her again, but she still wanted more. She wouldn't push because she knew that she shouldn't, but it didn't stop her from wanting to. She and Tim hadn't had sex since her infidelity. She knew why and she understood...but she wanted to have Tim trust her enough to be that open with her again.

Still, they had time, and she was determined to be patient. Maybe they'd talk about it, but more than likely it would just be right when it was right. That was how they had started their relationship the first time. It had just been...right. She smiled as she thought of the first time he'd come into her lab.

"_Um...hello?"_

_Abby looked up and smiled._

"_You must be Agent McGee."_

"_Yeah. Abby?"_

_He looked so uncertain._

"_That's me! I am _so_ ready for lunch, McGee. Are you?"_

"_Yeah. I'm ready."_

"_Relax, McGee! I'm a very nice person."_

"_I'm sure you are," Tim said. "I'm intimidated by beauty."_

_Abby was surprised at the moment of confidence. Tim seemed very timid, but he clearly had depth to him. She grinned._

"_Well, don't be. You're not so bad yourself, Agent McGee. Let's go!"_

Abby sighed. They had changed so much from that first meeting. ...and not all of the changes were for the better. Still, the changes were done and they couldn't take them back. But there was a lot they could do.

She heard the door downstairs close and Jethro's paws clattering into the kitchen. A pause and then the telltale sound of dogfood going into a dish. Tim had walked Jethro.

Sunday was usually Tim's day to walk Jethro. It was the routine. Tim falling back into their former routine made Abby smile again.

Then, she heard footsteps coming softly up the stairs. Tim was trying not to wake her if she was asleep. He might even try to get back into bed. Abby closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax, wanting to see what Tim would do if he thought she was asleep.

She held herself still as the door to their bedroom opened. Tim came inside, but then, there was silence. Abby almost opened her eyes but something told her to wait. Whatever Tim was doing was different than the routine, and Abby wasn't sure what it was.

Then, Tim walked over to where Abby was lying. She heard him kneel down beside her on the floor. Abby rolled over and opened her eyes. Tim was looking at her in silence, a soft smile on his face. She smiled back at him.

"Am I worth it, Abby?" Tim asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"All this aggravation. Am I worth it?"

Abby leaned forward and kissed Tim gently.

"Always."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Am I?"

"I wouldn't be here if you weren't."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Abby looked at Tim and she could tell that was as close as they were going to get today. She smiled and let the quiet moment pass.

"Breakfast?"

Tim's smile changed.

"Your turn. I did it yesterday."

"Okay. Waffles?"

"Works for me."

"Okay. Let me get up."

Tim nodded and stood. "I need to shower."

"I'll wait until after breakfast to shower."

Tim nodded again. "Oh...and Gibbs is coming over this afternoon."

Abby froze midmotion.

"What?"

"Gibbs is coming over. We need to talk, he said. So he's coming over today."

Abby could see that Tim was extremely ambivalent about Gibbs coming over but that he'd made the decision to do it; so she chose to avoid asking him if he was sure about it. He wasn't.

"Do you want me to make myself scarce?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"We might not stay here, though. I don't know if I want to have him here for that long."

"Okay."

One more nod and Tim vanished into the bathroom. Abby looked after him. She hoped this would go well. For Tim's sake.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs pulled up to Tim and Abby's house and stared at it for a few minutes. No matter what, he was going to go through with this, but at the same time, he was very unsure of it. Tim wasn't happy about it. He wasn't, either...but Gibbs was fairly certain that it was necessary. The problem was that he knew he'd have to be more expressive than he usually was...than he _ever_ was.

...but nothing would be accomplished if he kept sitting here staring at the house. Nodding to himself, Gibbs got out of the car and headed to the front door. He paused for a second and then knocked.

Not two seconds later, the door opened. Abby looked at him silently. Then, she bit her lip and hugged him tightly without saying a word. Before he could even register it, Abby let him go and stepped away.

"Come in, Gibbs," she said softly. "Tim's in the back. I'll get him."

Gibbs accepted that in silence and let Abby lead him into the living room. ...but it wasn't the living room he'd been in before. This room was totally different. Gone was the mourning black. In its place was... _beige_? Gibbs looked around, feeling almost bewildered. The couch was brown. The walls were light...but the ceiling was red. When he saw the ceiling, he almost laughed. In spite of everything, he found the room to be...right, somehow. It was an entertaining mix of Abby's over-the-top personality and Tim's... Here, Gibbs stumbled over finding the right word, even in his head. He couldn't figure out just what this room _did_ express about Tim's personality. It wasn't that it didn't. It definitely held facets of Tim, but Gibbs couldn't figure out just what that was.

...which was part of the problem, he decided.

Tim came in from the backyard and gave Gibbs a look. It was the most closed-off look he'd ever seen...on anyone.

"Nice room. I like the ceiling," Gibbs said, almost testing the waters.

Tim smiled slightly but gave away nothing. "We're not sure about it yet, but it's growing on us."

"You want to talk here?"

"No."

"Any preference on location?"

Tim shook his head.

"Okay. Let's go."

"Okay." Tim walked over to the hall. "Abby, we're leaving. You don't have to hide."

Abby came out of her hiding place and hugged Tim and then kissed him, almost hesitantly.

"Let me know when you get back, no matter what."

Tim laughed softly. "I don't think it'll take _that_ long."

"Okay. Bye."

Tim smiled at her and walked over to Gibbs.

"I'm ready."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got into the car with Gibbs. He hadn't spent time with Gibbs at all in weeks...at least not with _just_ Gibbs. He wasn't sure about this, but as soon as Abby had told him that Gibbs was there, he knew that he didn't want to talk to him in his home. It wasn't for any specific reason, but he was relieved when Gibbs had agreed so easily.

Gibbs pulled out of the driveway and headed in a northwest direction.

"Where are we going?" Tim asked.

"Not far away. Ever been to Carderock on the Potomac?"

"I've been to Great Falls."

"This is below Great Falls."

"Oh. Okay."

"No problem with that?"

"No. Doesn't matter really."

"Guess not."

Tim took a breath and looked out the window. What was he going to say? What was _Gibbs_ going to say? Tim wasn't really sure what to expect. He couldn't really imagine that Gibbs could say anything that would make things better between them. They were stiff at best. He was a little interested in the place Gibbs had chosen and wondered if Gibbs had planned on it in advance. Could he really have anticipated so much? Tim wouldn't put it past him.

Gibbs didn't speak as he drove and Tim felt no compunction to make conversation. It was a heavy, uncomfortable silence, but he'd gone through so much that silence wasn't bad enough.

He was dreading the conversation a lot more than he could ever dread the silence.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

They pulled into a parking lot. Gibbs got out, and Tim followed him to the edge of the Potomac and then down right to the river. There were a couple of convenient rocks. Gibbs had come here a few times himself, and while there were often people around, they'd lucked out today and the area was empty.

Gibbs gestured to the rocks. Tim sat down and looked at him expectantly. Gibbs tried to figure out how he should start.

Tim showed just how little patience he had and how little he wanted to be here.

"Well, Gibbs? This isn't going to be one those conversations where you just wait for the other person to talk. You're the one who wanted this. You're doing the talking."

Gibbs smiled and nodded. It was very different to have Tim being so combative and unaccepting. Generally, Tim was accepting of delays. He just didn't try to force things.

"I'd like to ask you a question."

"What?" Tim asked.

"Ducky told me that you felt the most betrayed by what I did because you looked at me like a mentor. Is that true?"

Gibbs could have sworn that Tim looked surprised by the question. Surprised enough that he might consider and give an honest answer. Gibbs wanted to be here in this place because it meant that no one would be there to hear whatever Tim might have to say. He might be more open to talking if he knew that no one was there to hold him to it.

"I don't know. I think it was enough that you ambushed me and nearly killed me. Don't you?"

"Yes...but at the same time, you didn't do what you could have done...and probably _should_ have."

"What?"

"Put me in prison," Gibbs said baldly. "I deserved it. Not only did I assault you, I was your supervisor and I assaulted you, and I did it without any cause and without any warning. If my betrayal was so complete, why didn't you give me what I deserved?"

Tim looked away from him and at the river. He didn't answer.

"Why not, Tim?"

Tim almost flinched at Gibbs' use of his first name, although Gibbs wasn't sure why.

"Why not? No one would have blamed you. I'm sure people are more shocked by the fact that you didn't."

"Because..." Tim began. "...because it wouldn't have been the right thing to do."

"Why not? It would have been justice."

Tim shrugged. "So? I'm not a judge. I'm not a lawyer. I don't have to think only about justice. When I could think clearly enough to go over what had happened, I hated you. That would have been why I did it, not because it was right but out of hate. That's not justice. So I didn't do it. I dressed it up nice, but I didn't press charges...because I hated you." He looked over at Gibbs, as if to see what impact his words had. "...and because I couldn't stand the idea of how everyone on the team would have looked at me, knowing that I sent you prison...even though I still think you deserve it."

Tim looked back out at the river.

"I do, too."

"Well, we agree on one thing, then."

"Yeah. Tim, you don't have to work for me."

"I know I don't. I know that a lot better than you do," Tim said, almost bitterly. "Director Vance gave me a lot of options. I could have gone almost anywhere. That's not what I want. I want the job I have. I want the job I've _had_. I still can't understand how I misjudged everyone so badly but...I can work with them."

"And me?"

"We're working fine."

"But the team isn't functioning like it should."

"And that's _my _fault?"

"No. It's mine. I'm not trying to blame you, Tim. I'm telling you the truth. The _team_ isn't working. We're doing our jobs, but if things go on like they are, we're going to fracture into pieces...and I don't want that to happen."

"Why not?" Tim asked. The tone of the question was different though. It was a genuine question. "I get why you don't want to lose Tony and Ziva, but why do you care if I'm there or not?"

"Because you're part of the team...or I thought you were, but I never treated you that way, did I."

"No, you didn't."

"It's because I just don't understand you and I don't know how to...really get you."

"What's so hard to get?" Tim asked, his brow furrowing. "You've worked with me for seven years! How hard is it to figure out someone you've worked with every day?"

Gibbs took a breath and tried to think of how to put this. He didn't want to use Ducky's words...which were true but sounded so...unlike him. He didn't have any other words for it...and Tim deserved the truth.

"Because you didn't need me, Tim. You told me that yourself when you talked to me before but I didn't really...get it, not until I spent more time talking about it. Tony and Ziva...they have families that are basically nonexistent. Ziva has rejected what little family she has left, and Tony's relationship with his father is hard to pin down. They need me to be part of their family. I understand that...feeling alone. But you...you have a family you love, a family you're in contact with."

Tim looked at him almost incredulously.

"You think that I've never been alone...just because I have a good family? And yes, I do. I've never wanted another family. I've got one, and one is enough. Haven't you ever known how it felt to be separate from everyone else? So that your family is _all_ you have? Don't you remember when we went to where those geniuses were working in cryptography at the Pentagon?"

"I remember."

"Their CO said it. They're different than other people. _We_ are different than other people...but people like you make us even more different than we are by looking at us as if we're another species. You think I've never been lonely? You think I don't know how it feels to have no one? Yes, I have a family, but having friends has been a lot harder. Do you how _that_ feels, Gibbs? To know that people are looking at you and putting you down and avoiding you just because you happen to be smart?" Tim suddenly seemed to realize that he was revealing more about himself than he'd planned. He stopped talking and looked at the river.

"Honestly, Tim...it didn't really cross my mind. I'm ashamed to say it, but it didn't. It should have. I've seen your records. I looked into them before I brought you on my team. I saw the facts but I didn't think I needed more than that. I thought I understood you, and I was wrong."

Tim just nodded and didn't look away from the water. Gibbs wasn't sure it would help but he pressed on. He'd had a sudden thought and it might do something to help Tim. He wasn't sure.

"I did the same thing to Kate."

Tim glanced at him for a moment and then away again.

"She had a good family, a good life. She wanted to find that perfect guy, settle down. No hidden problems. ...but the times when she needed more than just a boss, she didn't get it, not from me. She even tried reaching out once. Suicide by cop, something that would be hard for anyone. I told her to get over it. She needed sympathy but I didn't think of her as needing me like that, and I pushed her away. I misjudged her but I didn't realize it...until I realized how badly I misjudged you. She did need me...to be the right kind of boss. ...and unless I'm wrong again, you needed me to..." Again, Gibbs hesitated. He really wasn't used to be so open.

"What?" Tim asked quietly, not looking away from the river flowing past them. "What did I need you for, Gibbs?"

"...to let you belong. I needed to be your way into a place you weren't sure of in the first place. I didn't do that."

"No, you didn't."

Gibbs tried to catch Tim's eye, but Tim refused to meet his gaze.

"What you don't see, Tim, is that you didn't need my help for that much. You _were_ a part of the group. You just have decided to reject all the things that proved you were in favor of...of looking at this one thing...which is bad...but you're making that into all that matters."

"It _does_ matter, Gibbs," Tim said. "Friends don't do what you all did, and if there was a genuine feeling of friendship, you wouldn't have let this happen. You wouldn't have attacked me."

"I know I shouldn't have, and I wish that I could take that back, Tim. I really do, but I can't. There is nothing I can do to change the decision I made."

"Why _did_ you?" Tim asked, finally turning to him. "_Why_ did you attack me when I hadn't done _anything_ to start it? _Why_ didn't you give me a chance? You didn't even take the time to _accuse_ me of anything. You just hit me! Why?"

"Do you think it will make you feel any better to know?"

"Do you think it will make me feel any _worse_? Can I possibly be hurt more than I was when you nearly killed me?"

Gibbs actually wasn't sure.

"Do you want to know? Really?"

"Yes," Tim said. "I want to know."

But he looked back to the river, probably to hid his expression if there _was_ something worse.

"Okay. I didn't plan on hitting you, Tim."

"Yeah, right."

"Really. It doesn't change what I was thinking or make it any better, but I was going to accuse you, force you to confess that you'd done something...to Abby."

"So what changed your mind?"

"You came in and you didn't seem even close to as miserable as Abby was. That meant that no matter what you'd done, you weren't taking care of your wife."

Tim scoffed but said nothing.

"I didn't say I was right. I wasn't. I was wrong."

"I had just finished telling Ducky about Abby cheating on me. I was relieved that there was one person in the building who knew what was going on and was on my side," Tim said softly.

Gibbs winced. He'd never known for sure where Tim had come from. It made what he'd been thinking all the worse. Tim had an instant comparison between Gibbs, who had treated him like dirt, and Ducky, who had given him the respect he assumed no one else felt for him.

"I'm sorry, Tim," Gibbs said almost as softly.

Tim looked at him. "I almost believe that you mean it."

"I do."

"Now, you do."

"Tim, I can't change how I felt in that moment. I wish I could. I'd guess that _you_ wish you could change what happened. We can't. We can't go back, but..." He hesitated again. "...but if you'll let me try...I want to...prove to you that I _have_ learned something from this and that I want to have you on my team. Tim, I screwed all this up. I take full responsibility for it. No matter the reason, you gave me a chance. You could have given me what I deserved by pressing charges. You didn't do that." He took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. "Tim...I don't deserve this, either, but I'm asking you for another chance. I can't change the past, but I _can_ change what happens in the future...if you're willing to let me try."

"Why should I?" Tim asked.

"Because...I think you want to."

"What makes you think that?" Tim asked, sounding skeptical.

"Because you came back at all. You said that you wanted your job back, your life back. We're part of that. Whether you want to admit it or not, part of that is the..._friendship_ you had with Tony and Ziva. I've relied on you for a lot...and I haven't respected you like I should. Ducky said that you want to be seen as a human being with value in yourself, and I _have_ valued you that way, but I've rarely...if _ever_ shown that to you. I've only shown appreciation for the work you can do. Am I wrong?"

Tim was silent. Gibbs guessed that Tim didn't want to open himself up that far.

"Whether I'm right about that or not, will you give me another chance that I don't deserve?"

"What will I get out of it?"

"A team. I can't promise you anything more...or _less_ than that."

There was a long moment of silence, but then, there was noise from above. A group was coming down to the river. Tim instantly got up without answering. He walked away from Gibbs, up toward the trail. Gibbs sighed and followed.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Tim climbed back up to the parking lot level and headed toward the car but then decided that he didn't want to sit there.

"Tim?"

Tim stopped and didn't turn around. Gibbs had followed him up, and he hadn't let Tim get very far away. Tim hadn't expected Gibbs to be so expressive, so open...not when he felt so wary. The presence of others had given him the perfect opportunity to escape from this strange situation.

"Tim."

A temporary escape only. He should have known. He forced himself to turn around and face Gibbs.

"The trail looks empty."

So he wasn't done.

"Yeah, it does," Tim said.

Gibbs gestured. Tim held back a sigh and nodded. They walked down the path. This time, Tim didn't try to get Gibbs to talk. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear any more. The silence was preferable. For a few blessed moments, neither of them spoke. They were out of sight of anyone else and, while Tim appreciated the fact that Gibbs was trying to keep this private, he _wasn't_ appreciating the conversation.

...was he? He pushed back.

"Do you think that using my first name now changes things?"

"No."

"Then, why are you?"

"Because it's your name...and I should use it."

What bothered Tim the most, he decided, was that he would have _loved_ to hear all this six months ago. Now, all he could do was remember what Gibbs had done, what he'd thought, and it just seemed like an attempt to clean up a mess rather than being motivated by any sincere feeling.

"It never seemed to bother you before."

"I know."

"Can you see my problem, Gibbs?" Tim asked. "You keep telling me all these things. You're saying the right words...but I have a hard time believing that you mean it."

"I told you already, Tim, that I can't change the past."

"I _know_ you can't," Tim said, feeling frustrating that Gibbs would repeat that yet again.

"Then, why do you keep making that a requirement?"

"I'm not."

Gibbs actually chuckled. "Yeah, you are...and you need to admit it. You don't want to forgive me, fine. That's your choice. But don't kid yourself. You're comparing everything to what I did, what Tony did...and I'm not saying you should forget about it."

"Good...because I won't," Tim retorted, feeling rankled.

"Listen!" Gibbs said, showing the first bit of fire that Tim had seen in him since that day. "Don't forget it. But stop making something impossible be the requirement for moving on. That's what you're doing. We did a lot of stupid things and we can_not_ change it, but we know that we were stupid. _I_ know that what I did was wrong and that there is no part of that day that I didn't do wrong. You may not want to believe it, but I learned something from this. I regret that it took something so awful to teach me the lesson, but I've learned a lot. I've learned how little I really bother to think when Abby is involved. I've learned that I have _never_ really understood you, and that's my fault. I assumed that I knew and I didn't. If I had bothered, I would never have done what I did. We can agree on that, and I already know that I don't deserve another chance, but you've already given me one. Can you give me another chance? Can you _really_ give me a chance?"

Tim looked at him, feeling a strange twisting in his gut.

"And if I say no?"

"Then, I'll retire."

That rocked Tim to the core. "What?"

"If you can't work with me, I'll retire. I think you'll forgive Tony and Ziva, especially if I'm not around to remind you of the ultimate result of what they did. I don't want my team broken up, even if it's not me leading it."

Tim couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe that Gibbs would hang everything on his choice. He didn't _want_ Gibbs to hang everything on his choice.

"Can you give me a chance?" Gibbs asked, and he sounded almost _humble_, as if he wasn't worthy of asking the question.

The twisting in Tim's gut led to a tightening in his chest and then a sudden feeling of wanting to cry. ...which made him angry. He swung away from Gibbs and stalked off the path.

"Don't do this to me," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Don't do _what_?" Gibbs asked.

"Don't make all this rest on my decision! I don't want to be the one who decides whether or not you're at NCIS. I don't want to be the one who decides whether people treat you with respect. I don't want to be the one who has everyone's attention. That's not what I want! I just want to live my life!"

"I'm sorry, Tim, but I've given this a lot of thought, and it would be best...for NCIS, for the team, for you...and for me. If you can't give me a chance to redeem myself, then I shouldn't be there...because I shouldn't be there anyway. I should be rotting away in prison."

"I'm not changing my mind about that," Tim said.

"I know. You wouldn't."

The tone of Gibbs' voice was so..._understanding_, that Tim felt, again, like he wanted to cry. He faced toward the river again and tried not to let the tears well up in his eyes. No way would he let Gibbs see that he'd managed to make him feel something other than disgust, other than hurt and anger. No.

"I broke six of my rules in dealing with you."

"Six? I only counted four," Tim muttered.

"You don't know all the rules yet."

Tim let out a humorless laugh.

"The worst is one that I didn't really write down until a couple of years ago. Rule 51. Sometimes, you're wrong."

"You needed a rule for that?" Tim asked. "Most people realize that without writing it down."

"I'm not perfect."

"Got that right."

"I've never claimed it, but I've let myself fall into the trap of assuming that I know all there is to know about my job and about the people in my sphere. I don't. I can't because people aren't all the same...but I let myself forget that...and you suffered for it."

"Yeah, I did."

There was a minute or two of silence.

"You and Abby seem to be doing better."

"That disappointing to you?" Tim asked, but without any real fire.

"No. I'm relieved. I think I made things worse for you, and I'm glad that I didn't destroy that, too."

Again, he sounded so sincere. Tim relented a bit.

"You didn't," Tim said. "We are doing better."

"Good. I'm glad. I don't think I could have done what you're doing."

"It's my life," Tim said softly.

"And it's something you value. Some people don't have that connection and they walk away. Some people won't deal with the pain. You chose to stay and deal with it. I don't think I would have."

Tim reached up and picked a leaf off a low-hanging branch of a sycamore tree. He started to carefully tear bits of the leaf away from the veins...leaving a kind of skeleton of the leaf behind. It gave him something to do and somewhere to look besides at Gibbs.

"People _are_ watching me, you know. Ducky warned me that they would be and he was right. If I had come and started treating you disrespectfully, they would have followed my lead. They would have done the same thing. I don't know how much they've been told, how much they've guessed. ...but no one seems to know about Abby, and I'm glad. I don't want them asking me about it."

"Why not? They'd be on your side."

"I don't care. It's my life that I'm trying to repair. This isn't some game of one-upsmanship. Why do you think I was keeping it to myself in the first place? It had nothing to do with _any_ of you, but you couldn't keep your noses out of it...and that only made things worse, not better. It would be the same now. The less people know, the better. Abby and I don't need people pointing fingers and saying that they're on my side. We need the time to work it out." Tim took a breath and turned around. "We need the time that _you_ and Tony and Ziva couldn't give us. ...and if we're doing okay now, it's because of Ducky and the Vances...because _they_ only talked to us about it when we asked them to." Tim felt that too-familiar tightening in his throat. "_Why_ couldn't you have been like that?"

Then, he turned back to the river. He tossed the denuded leaf on the ground. Suddenly, he felt really tired and sank down on a fallen log.

"You tell me that I need to get past it. How do I do that, Gibbs? Tell me. How am I supposed to be able to move beyond what you did? It showed a complete lack of respect for me. It showed that you didn't care about me as a person, only about Abby. How am I supposed to get past what you guys did to me?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Tim," Gibbs said and sat down beside him. "I'm really not perfect. I don't know what the answers are to this. I can tell you that you've already done something I wouldn't have done."

"What?"

"Asked the question at all."

Tim looked at Gibbs.

"What question?"

"You asked how to move beyond all that. I don't know how, but I think you can if you decide you want to. Beyond that...I don't have any answers."

Tim didn't know why, but hearing Gibbs say that proved to be his undoing. He leaned forward and started to cry. It wasn't a loud sob. It was just tears that he couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't have explained why. Maybe it was that some part of his subconscious still wanted Gibbs to know everything and be able to fix what had gone wrong. He felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder and he stiffened involuntarily. Gibbs' hand disappeared instantly.

He hadn't answered Gibbs' question but he couldn't. Not now.

Tim sat up.

"I'm ready to go home now, Gibbs."

He could have sworn that Gibbs looked almost sad, but Tim couldn't find it in himself to deal with this any more today.

"Okay, Tim."

Gibbs got up without protest and they walked back to the car. The ride back was as silent as the ride over. When they pulled into the driveway, Tim looked at the house, knowing Abby would be waiting anxiously inside, and he knew that she probably was hoping that all had been forgiven. Tim knew that, and he wished he could give that to her, but he couldn't. Not right now...his mind was in tangles right now, much more than it had been before.

He looked at Gibbs and tried to say something, but the words all stuck in his throat. He just sighed and got out of the car and went inside.

"Tim? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Abbs." That sounded dull, even to Tim's ears.

She came out of the kitchen.

"It didn't go well?" she asked.

Tim sighed. "I don't even know, Abby." He walked into the living room and sat on the couch. He slumped down and looked up at the red ceiling.

"What happened?" Abby asked.

She sat down beside him and then whistled softly. There was the clatter of paws and Jethro came in and put his head on Tim's knee and started drooling.

"We talked. He had things to say. I had things to say. Then, we came back."

"What did he have to say?" Abby asked.

"Mostly he just wanted to know if I'd give him a chance."

"And what did _you_ say?" Abby asked.

Tim could hear the hope in her voice and it made his insides feel like lead.

"I didn't say anything. I can't. Abby, I don't know what to do anymore! I don't know!"

Tim pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead.

"Why not?"

A nervous energy gripped him and Tim got to his feet, forcing Jethro to back up. He started pacing with Jethro following along behind him.

"Because I..." Tim stopped, feeling almost appalled.

"What, Tim?" Abby asked. Her voice was soft.

Tim was struck anew by how much she'd changed in the last couple of months.

"Tim...what's bothering you so much?"

"Because I...I _want_ to..."

Abby stood up, looking eager.

"What do you want, Tim?"

"I _want_ to give him a chance, but I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I can't...understand why he did what he did. If I can't understand it, I can't trust that it won't happen again. ...and I don't understand and when I think about what he did, I hate him all over again." Tim hadn't really asked Abby for advice in any of this. He had asked what she _thought_ about things, but not her advice. ...but now... "Abby, what do I do? I don't know what to do."

Abby hugged Tim tightly.

"I don't know, either, Tim. Maybe we should just...go to bed and see if things look better tomorrow."

"And if they don't?"

Abby actually laughed a little. "Then, maybe we can sue whoever wrote that stupid _Annie_ song and we'll never have to work a day again in our lives."

Tim laughed and let Abby lead him up the stairs into their room. They both got ready for bed and then lay beside each other. That distance still present, even though they'd come a long way from where they'd been.

Tim hesitated and then reached out. Silently, he pulled Abby to him and held her tightly.

They slept.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs had known that they wouldn't get everything out in one conversation, but he had hoped to get Tim to commit. He hadn't been willing...or hadn't been able to do it.

Actually, Gibbs was surprised that Tim hadn't just thrown up his hands and said that was it. He didn't know what was holding him back, but it surprised him. He didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

In reality, he knew very little. But what he _did_ know was that Tim wouldn't forget what they'd talked about.

...no matter what he ended up deciding.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

Tim didn't sleep a whole lot that night. Long after Abby fell asleep, he lay awake, holding his wife in his arms. He did loosen his grip on her though. The moment he couldn't get out of his mind was Gibbs briefly putting his hand on Tim's shoulder, that moment of Gibbs trying to comfort in the way that he did...and Tim's own automatic reaction to that. He didn't know why that moment of all the moments was what he focused on.

He slept fitfully before finally giving up and getting out of bed at about quarter to five. He just couldn't get his mind to stop racing. He got ready for the day as quietly as he could and then sat down in the living room to wait for Abby to stir. As he waited, he looked at the changed room. There was no question that he liked it a lot better than its previous incarnation, but still...it was strange to see. As little as he'd liked the black, it was what he'd become used to...to the extent that he hadn't really even thought about it much. Funny how even something unpleasant could become normal and something better could seem strange.

The thought made him pause and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He couldn't wait for Abby to get up and get ready...and he couldn't drive himself to work. He _hated_ the driving restriction most of all. He could deal with the occasional headaches, the fact that his stamina was still not up to par, but not being able to drive was frustrating.

...but he couldn't sit here and wait. So he got to his feet and walked into the kitchen. He wrote a note telling Abby that he'd decided to go into work early and that he was sorry he couldn't wait for her. Then, he pulled out his phone and called for a taxi.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got to NCIS by 6 a.m., coffee in hand. He sat at his desk, not doing much...but he couldn't stop his mind from going over and over the conversation he'd had with Gibbs the day before, and the question that Gibbs had asked of him.

Another chance. Wasn't _one_ undeserved chance enough? Why did he need to give another one? Why couldn't they just go on?

"Why?" Tim whispered. Then, he sighed and opened his drawer.

There was a single piece of paper folded in the drawer. Just one. Tim felt apprehensive, but he also wondered whether it was Tony or Ziva who had written back. Carefully, he unfolded the page.

_Tim,_

_We decided it would be best just to answer together since you asked us the same question. But we don't know what the answer is. We can promise that we've learned our lesson, but we can't prove it unless you give us time to do that. If you're going to do that, I hope we can show you that we know what we did was wrong._

_Tony and Ziva_

Tim put the note down and wasn't sure what to do about it. What kind of a response did it warrant? He had no idea. Every step on this path seemed more difficult than the one before. He wanted to say that he was giving up, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

With a loud exhalation, he put the note back in his desk and booted up his computer.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Vance noticed Tim sitting at his desk very early when he arrived at NCIS. Tim looked up and smiled weakly at him. Obviously, some things had happened over the weekend that hadn't helped Tim feel any better. He made a mental note to talk to Tim before he left that day. He walked into the outer office and was surprised to see Gibbs sitting on the couch, looking about as happy as Tim was downstairs.

"Agent Gibbs, what brings you here so early?"

Gibbs looked up at him.

"Hey, Leon."

Ah. Not work-related.

"Come on in, Jethro," Vance said.

As soon as the door was closed, Gibbs asked his question.

"Why did you befriend McGee when all this started?"

That wasn't the question Vance had expected, but he turned around and looked at Gibbs closely.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't really done that with anyone else. Why McGee?"

Vance shrugged. "Initially, because I didn't want to lose him as an employee. I could see that, since he'd been betrayed by all of you, he had lost the majority of his close friends. If he didn't have _someone_ to put in your place, he'd give up and leave here, and he's an asset I didn't want to lose."

"And after that?"

"After that, I got to know him and Abby and we, Jackie and I, enjoy their company. In spite of what they're going through, they're interesting people, fun to know. It's been awkward getting used to having me as their employer here and a friend outside, but they're getting used to it. I haven't regretted making the effort."

Gibbs nodded.

"What's this about, Jethro?"

"He's used you as a comparison a couple of times when he talked to me. I just wanted to know whether or not it was sincere on your side."

"It is," Vance said, not bothering to point out that it was _Gibbs'_ sincerity that was at issue, not his own.

"How long are you going to let this go on?"

"Let what?"

"Us...working together, trying to fix things."

"As long as it works. So far, it does. Not well, not easily, but your work is adequate. As long as that remains the case and as long as Tim doesn't ask me to make any changes, I'll let it continue. The real test will be after he gets back to work in the field. Not being able to drive is frustrating for him, but he's making do. He'll be back in the field in the next week or so, I think. Still not at full time. He's a lot better, but Tim told me himself that he's not at full form yet."

Gibbs nodded and headed for the door. Vance decided to test Gibbs just a bit.

"Just out of curiosity, Gibbs, you've never even intimated that you regret what you did. Oh, you've admitted you were wrong and that you made a mistake. But do you regret it? If you're worried, this isn't an official question. It won't go in your record either way, and I won't tell Tim."

Gibbs stopped and didn't turn around...but he answered.

"I don't think there's much that I've regretted more than this."

Then, he walked out.

Vance sat down at his desk. He was surprised to realize that he believed Gibbs completely. This really was something he greatly regretted.

He didn't know about how Tim felt, but Vance felt optimistic, mostly because Gibbs felt regret and was admitting to it.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ziva looked at Tony and raised her eyebrows. Tim was working at his computer, mostly going through old files. They didn't have a lot going on at the moment. Tony nodded.

For some reason, this was almost frightening to attempt. Still, she got to her feet and walked over to Tim's desk.

"Tim, we are going to grab some lunch. Would you like to join us?" she asked.

Tim looked up for a moment.

"No. Thank you."

"Very well."

Ziva shrugged at Tony as she headed for the elevator. Tony joined her. They had known this first attempt was unlikely to succeed, but they had to begin somehow. It was hard to accept, but for now, the offer would be out there...and Tim would know.

The elevator doors closed.

"He said no," Tony said, sounding disappointed.

"We knew he would," Ziva said.

"Yeah, but I'd hoped that we'd be wrong."

"It will take time, Tony."

"You've already eaten with him once."

"Because I showed up at Ducky's unannounced and did not give Tim the chance to say no."

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I know. I guess I'm just jealous."

"There is no need. It is awkward for all of us. We have to remember that it is not just us that we are doing this for. We are doing this for Tim."

"Yeah. I know. Well...where are we going?"

Ziva laughed a little. "I am not actually very hungry."

"Neither am I. Food court?"

"Yes."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked at Tony and Ziva when they came back into the bullpen. They seemed more relaxed than they'd been in months. They even smiled at him. Tim wondered what had changed. Why were they suddenly so calm? Was it impossible for Tim to be relaxed at the same time? He felt more adrift than ever. Nothing was happening as he expected it to.

It was happening as he'd _wanted_ it to. If someone had asked him what could make things better, it would have been something like this. Why couldn't he be happy about that?

_What's wrong with me?_ Tim wondered.

"Take a break, McGee."

Tim looked over at Gibbs in surprise. The expression on his face was almost sympathetic.

"What?"

"Take a break."

Tim looked at Tony and Ziva who just gave him a glance before turning back to their work. Tim couldn't bring himself to say anything at all. Right now, he just needed to...to take a break.

He automatically went down to Autopsy, looking for Ducky...someone who could give him some guidance in this sudden feeling of complete confusion.

When he got into Autopsy, he was surprised to find the room empty. Ducky might be out for lunch. Gibbs hadn't said how long of a break he should take, but Tim didn't want to take more time than he should. He hadn't taken a lunch; so he felt he could take a little bit more time than he would otherwise.

While he waited for Ducky to get back, he sat down in his office. That one moment yesterday played through his mind again and again. Gibbs trying to help him feel better. Gibbs who had done his best to tear him down.

Tim leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling...the non-red ceiling. He thought again about how, because he had assumed there wasn't another option, he had adjusted to something he really didn't like. And he was having a hard time adjusting to something that he actually liked.

He vaguely heard the doors to Autopsy open, but he was too focused on his contemplation of the ceiling to notice more than that.

A hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked away from the ceiling, the chair bringing him upright with a jolt.

"Timothy? What brings you down here at this time?"

Tim looked at Ducky.

"What's wrong with me, Ducky?" Tim asked.

"In what respect, lad?"

"They're doing everything right! Why can't I accept it? What's wrong with me? If someone had _told_ them what to do to make things right, they couldn't really have done any better. They're different than they were. So...what's wrong with _me_? I must be the problem because they're not. Not now."

"Timothy," Ducky began.

Tim got to his feet before Ducky could say anything more than his name.

"It's like the ceiling, Ducky. It's like the whole room. It's so much better than it was. I like it, but it's so strange and hard to accept that it almost feels foreign! Why in the world would any sane person have a hard time accepting something they actually like? Why?"

Ducky grabbed Tim by the shoulders and shook him a little to get him to stop.

"Timothy, please, let me speak...since you've asked the question."

Tim stopped and flushed, embarrassed by his actions.

"I'm sorry, Ducky. I just...I feel so confused."

"What brought this on? You didn't seem particularly troubled on Friday."

"That was before I talked to Gibbs on Sunday."

"What happened?"

"We talked, and...typically," Tim said with a self-deprecatory tone, "I got upset. I asked Gibbs what he wanted me to do, what I _could_ do, and he said he didn't know...and I started to cry, Ducky. Like a total wuss. ...and do you know what he did?"

"No, what?" Ducky asked.

"He put his hand on my shoulder...just for a second...because I got all tense and he left me alone. I can't even fathom that he was doing that for any other reason than to be nice...but..." Tim just sighed and plopped himself back down on the chair again. "What's wrong with me?"

Ducky perched on the edge of his desk.

"There's nothing wrong with you, per se, Timothy. From what you're saying, the issue is more with a cultivated distrust, something that you have developed due to bad events and then allowed to settle. The issue is that you're noticing it now and, of course, it's troubling. You are trying to force yourself away from your natural inclinations...which are to trust others when they say they mean something and to believe them when they tell you something...within reason, of course."

Tim laughed a little.

"Anthony and Ziva are doing their best to demonstrate that they're trustworthy, but I'm certain that they know it will take time."

"And Gibbs?"

"He spoke to me, wanting to know if there was any chance."

"He told me he'd retire if I couldn't give him another chance."

"Really?"

"And he means it, Ducky," Tim said. "I don't want this to depend on me!"

"I told you before that you have a lot power in this situation."

"I don't _want_ it!"

"Nevertheless, you have it, and circumstances will not allow you to give it up. You must take hold of it and take control of the situation in which you find yourself. Whether you like it or not."

"It's only been a few months, Ducky, but it feels like years."

Ducky chuckled. "That's life for you. Good times can speed by and the misery seems to have the power to slow time to a crawl."

Tim took a deep breath. He felt a bit better. Ducky had a calming effect...probably because there was no ambiguity about him for Tim...like there was for so many other people in his life right now.

"What you need to do, Timothy, is determine just what you want. Don't let your fear hold you back. Make the decision and implement it. If that means you don't want to give Jethro a chance, then, you should make that decision and let the chips fall where they may. If you do want to give him a chance, then make _that_ decision and let the chips fall where they may. Waiting won't make you feel any better."

"Things have just been kind of...coasting along and now, they're rushing at me at the speed of light."

"I can't control that, I'm afraid. ...and neither can you."

Tim nodded.

"So...do you know what you're going to do?"

Tim thought about it. He took a deep breath as his stomach tightened with worry. Ducky squeezed his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it so much. This is important, I don't deny that, but it will not be the end of the world either way."

Tim nodded again. "I'd better get back to work. I don't want to take too long a break."

"Very well. If you want to talk again after work, you know where I'll be."

"Thanks, Ducky. You've been so much help."

"I've done my best."

"And it's been great."

Tim got to his feet and smiled at Ducky. Then, he walked to the elevator, rode up to the bullpen and walked over to Gibbs' desk. Gibbs looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Tim said. "I'm not making any guarantees, Gibbs...but yes."

Gibbs looked at him in confusion for a moment and then his eyes widened slightly in surprise. Tim just turned around and walked back to his desk.

"Thanks, McGee," Gibbs said in a low voice.

Tim just nodded and stared at his monitor. He hoped that this was the right decision.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

A decision made does not mean the elimination of all further problems. Tim had agreed to give Gibbs a chance. Giving Gibbs a chance meant giving Tony and Ziva a chance by extension.

...but a chance meant only that. It didn't mean certainty, and Tim was still very wary.

"_Hey, Tim. Want to get a drink with us?"_

"_No. Thanks."_

Tony and Ziva kept asking, and Tim kept refusing. The interesting thing was that Tim never sounded irritated or angry about their persistence. ...but he was just as persistent in saying no. It was a strange situation because Tony and Ziva didn't mind either...even as the days turned into weeks. They just kept asking day after day...and Tim kept saying no.

"_Tim, since we're all staying late, we're getting dinner."_

"_No, thank you."_

The wariness extended to Gibbs as well, but some of the tension eased naturally once he'd opened the possibility of things getting better. There was plenty of tension left over, but it did make a difference. Gibbs was in the bullpen more, and when it was clear that Tim had eased a bit, Tony and Ziva also eased...and by extension, there was less tension around the bullpen. As Ducky had promised, Tim's attitude set the standard for everyone at headquarters.

"_I think we all missed lunch. Would you like to join us, McGee?"_

"_No, thanks."_

Cases came and went as time passed. Tim was finally able to get out in the field, although he wasn't allowed to drive and he wasn't full-time yet. Still, it was a major improvement to have Tim doing his job again and it was easier for everyone to forget (temporarily) what had happened. There were even occasional conversations that weren't work-related in the bullpen...although that wouldn't extend beyond those bounds. They'd remember every time there was a lunch run. Every time there was a break.

"_Hey, Tim. Come with us!"_

"_Not this time."_

After a few weeks of adjusting to the change in the living room, Tim and Abby both decided that they liked it. Even Abby realized that she actually liked the eclectic nature of the decor better than the stereotypical black they'd had before. So they decided to tackle the study next. If the living room had screamed _Abby!_, the study would be Tim, but not exactly. The furniture was Tim's, but the decor itself was bland...even for Tim. It was just that Abby hadn't shown much interest in it before and Tim had wanted an escape.

"_Tim, we're going to the bar. Coming?"_

"_No."_

So they started redecorating it. The first thing they changed was the door. Instead of the solid wood door that effectively cut the study off from the rest of the house, they went shopping together and found a glass door with a funky stained-glass design that they both liked. To be sure, Abby was more enthusiastic about it than Tim was, but he very firmly said that he liked it when Abby kept pressing him to find out what he really thought. They decided to splurge on it, after some serious discussion, and make the door one that could slide into the wall. When the contractor came to look at it, he told them, to their delight, that the house had originally been designed that way and so it required very little construction.

"_Hey, Probie. Want to come with us?"_

"_Nah."_

With the door fixed so it was easier to leave it open without getting in the way, they turned their attention onto the room itself. Keeping in mind the fact that they did not have an unlimited budget, they focused on seeing how they could tweak what was there rather than do a major overhaul. Tim said that they were keeping his old desk and his typewriter. There was no way he'd give them up. Abby agreed but talked him into getting the desk restored. Then, they looked at the walls. Tim said they'd only do one painted ceiling, and Abby wanted something a little more lively than taupe. They decided to try a faux finish, Tim suggested a pearl finish and Abby agreed. It took a couple of weekends, but they were happy with it almost instantly.

"_McGee. Come with?"_

"_Not today."_

Ducky watched the developments with increasing hope. He knew that Tim was very nervous and still uncertain about trusting them, but he also noticed that there was a natural trend toward a better relationship among them all as time passed. It wasn't because anyone was forcing it. It was because, once Tim was willing to accept the possibility, that possibility was slowly becoming realized. It hadn't been realized just yet. Tim still talked to Ducky a lot even while he continued seeing his therapist. Ducky knew that Abby had joined him on occasion. He made a habit of coming up to the bullpen throughout the day, just to see what was happening...and it was actually heartening, although it didn't seem like it would be on the surface.

"_Tim, you want to come with us for lunch?"_

"_Nope."_

Gibbs had noticed that there was an almost-instant lessening of the tension between them. Not a lot but a little. Tim didn't avoid him as often, and Gibbs didn't feel like he needed to stay away from the bullpen for the sake of Tony and Ziva...and for his own sake as well. He made the effort of talking to Tim, although not with the same intensity of their first conversation. More than that, he just tried to show Tim that he was earning his second chance. He knew that Tim was ambivalent about it at best. But he hoped that he was noticing an actual improvement. He knew that Vance had got a couple of written evaluations from Tim over the course of Gibbs' probation. He didn't know what was _in_ them, but they obviously hadn't been bad enough to warrant a reprimand.

"_Join us for a drink, McGee?"_

"_No, thanks."_

There was a lot going on in every facet of Tim's life, but as time passed, he felt more and more able to deal with it. Instead of waking up in the morning and dreading the coming problems that he knew would be there, he woke up with a bit of worry but more anticipation. He could actually admit to himself that he looked forward to going to work again. They hadn't got back to friendship, but Tim was feeling much easier around them. ...and he really didn't have a problem with their persistence. He couldn't help but wonder why they didn't give up. It had been months, but they had continued to ask.

"_You're here early, Tim. Want to get coffee?"_

"_Not this time."_

Abby had moments when she wondered if all this was going to result in a good relationship again. She and Tim were doing so much better, and they had fun with each other now. But still, there were things they _weren't_ doing. They were sleeping in the same bed, even in each other's arms...but no more than that. Abby didn't feel like she could push in the circumstances but she did wish that there was something she could do to get them back to the closeness they'd had before.

"_McGee, would you like to come with us?"_

"_Thanks, but no."_

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It had been over six months since the whole mess had begun, and there was a special date coming up. Ducky knew it was coming. So did Jimmy. Abby knew. Vance knew as well. None of the others knew about it...because Tim didn't even think to mention it to them...and because they still weren't hanging out or anything. But it was important to him and Tim was excited about it. Abby was excited for him just because she knew how much Tim had chafed against waiting.

"Tim?"

Tim smiled at her. It was a real smile. She was seeing that smile more and more. Not all the time, but still, she liked to see it whenever it came.

"You look like you're pretty excited."

"I am. Maybe it's silly, but I've been looking forward to this for weeks."

"Well, it's official," Abby said with a smile.

After six months, physically, there were no signs of Tim's experiences. He'd put back on the weight he'd lost. While he still got a minor headache every once in a while, they were far from debilitating and he wasn't worried about them. If she lifted his hair, she could see the small scar from being thrown against the specimen fridge. Otherwise, there was nothing to see...and now, there was something more.

Tim lifted his hand and grinned. He shook his car keys. He'd been cleared on driving just the day before.

"Do you mind going separately?"

"I'll let you drive, Tim," Abby said.

"I just want my first time back behind the wheel to be on my own. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind."

"Thanks. I'm going to head out now. I'll see you there."

Abby hugged him. "I'm glad that you get to drive, Tim. It's been a long time for you."

"Too long."

Tim almost ran out of the house. Abby laughed and cleaned up breakfast. She'd give Tim a chance to get a head start.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim pulled into a parking space and smiled to himself. Somehow, he felt freer than he had in ages just by being able to drive his own car. As he headed toward the building, he tossed his keys up in the air and caught them.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice he had an audience.

"Tim! You're driving! We didn't know you were going to be cleared!"

Tim stopped, startled, and looked back. Tony and Ziva were walking across the road to catch up with him.

"Yeah, I am," Tim said.

Tony and Ziva looked at each other and seemed to come to a decision.

"We wanted to wait until all the physical problems from what happened were gone. Can we talk to you, Tim?" Ziva asked. "It is early yet for work. Can we talk now?"

"About what?" Tim asked.

"About all of us. Please?"

Tim hesitated.

"We haven't really talked about it since the beginning," Tony said. "Can we at least take a stab at it?"

This wasn't exactly how Tim wanted to celebrate his first day of driving, but he nodded.

"Okay. Let's talk."


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

Tony held out a cup of coffee.

"Double Americano?"

Tim hesitated and then took it.

"Thanks."

"Can we sit?" Ziva asked, gesturing to the benches across the street in Willard Park.

"Okay."

Tim followed Tony and Ziva and sat down across from them.

"Coffee's good," Tim said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Are you still angry with us?" Ziva asked. "Have you forgiven us for what we thought of you?"

"I'm not angry," Tim said. That was the easy question. He hadn't been angry for a long time.

"Have you forgiven us?" Ziva asked, being as persistent as they'd been in asking him to join them.

"You don't seem to be mad about us inviting you along...even though you always say no," Tony said.

"I'm not mad about that," Tim said. Another easy observation to make. He'd never been irritated by it, even though he'd told Tony not to do it. Once they'd started, it hadn't bothered him at all.

"But have you forgiven us? Are you willing to trust out beyond when we are backing you up in the field?"

Tim took another drink of his coffee and didn't answer.

"Come on, Tim," Tony said. "We're willing to be patient, but can't you at least let us know where we stand? ...because I sure can't tell. You don't seem to be mad but you won't give us the chance outside of what we do at NCIS. You won't come along ever, but sometimes, I'd swear that you _like_ us inviting you. So...what's going on in your head? ...because I just don't understand. I made a huge mistake, much worse than Ziva did, and I know that I did. I've known that for a long time, but what I _don't_ know is if you're willing to accept that I _have_ learned a lesson from that."

To stave off having to answer, Tim leaned forward.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Tony asked, confused.

"Why were you willing to believe what you did? I know it wasn't something you believed long-term, Tony, and I know that you weren't doing anything more than entertaining the thought, Ziva, but...but why did it get even _that _much of your attention? Why? You've known me for years! I've spent more time with you guys than I have with anyone else because we work together and the hours aren't regular hours. ...and I'm kind of a loner in general. I would never have even suspected that this is something you could believe...not even halfway. Why?"

Ziva sighed. "Partly because it was easier to believe that you had done something wrong than that Abby had. We all know that Abby was one who had to have her way and if we just gave in, it would keep things running more smoothly here."

Tim barely kept himself from rolling his eyes, but Ziva wasn't done.

"I am not saying that this was right. It was not...and I have noticed that Abby is very different from how she was before. I am telling you one of the things that has contributed to what we were willing to think. It is easier to side with Abby and it became...almost a habit to do so."

"That pretty much stinks," Tim said.

"Yeah, I know," Tony said with a nod. "It does. We're all adults but we don't always act like that. I know what I did was worse than that. I was thinking that everything was a lot more serious than a simple argument...because you both were acting really weird, even for you two. And I could see that something was really wrong and off...and I tried to think of something as wrong and off as it seemed like you were acting...and then I couldn't think of anything else. It's the kind of suspicion that...once it's there, it won't go away. I'm not proud of it, Tim. I'm really not. I'm ashamed...still, I'm ashamed. I knew something was wrong, and I still gave in to the idea that it had to be you doing something wrong."

Tim took another sip of the coffee. He wasn't angry but that didn't change the fact that it was frustrating to know that these people who had supposedly been his friends had thought like this.

"McGee, say something," Ziva said. "Yell at us. Tell us how awful we are. Tell us that we are terrible friends. Those things are all true. Anything, but please, do not leave us waiting to know if you can forgive us. The selfish part of me just wants to have you as a friend again. You were such a good friend to me when I first came here and you were always one I counted a close friend. I have seen you in moments when you seemed happy, and I am glad because I was afraid that would never happen again...but when you are around us...that does not seem to be the case."

Tim looked at his coffee and then looked away from Tony and Ziva. Finally, he let out a whoosh of air and shrugged.

"I don't know what to say, really. When I sit and think about it, I'm still overwhelmed by the fact that you guys thought I could be an abusive husband...after all those people we've seen while we're working, could you really believe that I'd do something like that to Abby?" Tony and Ziva visibly winced. "But when I can forget that...but really, I _can't_ forget it. It's just a matter of how prominent it is in my head. When it's less prominent...I can...almost say yes, but...but I'm afraid of taking that next step because...because you believed the worst once. What if something _else_ happens and, again, I can't rely on you for help because you've decided that it's _easier_ to go along rather than _talk_ to me first?"

"How are you going to know if you won't give us a chance?" Tony asked.

"That's the catch-22. I can't know if I don't, but I couldn't bear it if I was wrong. How do I maneuver between those two possibilities?" Tim asked, and it was a genuine question. He really didn't know and couldn't see how there would be a solution to this situation.

Ziva looked at Tony for a moment, as if asking to take over. Tony nodded.

"You must take the risk," she said. "And I am not saying that just so that we can benefit. I am saying it because...for your sake as well as ours, you must decide. We cannot be certain what will happen in the future, but we would like the chance and we believe that we have learned, that we would not make the same mistake again."

Tim took another breath and looked up. He knew that what Ziva was saying was right, but he also wasn't sure that he was able to go through with it...even now. He looked at his watch.

"Thanks for the coffee," he said. "We're going to be late."

He got to his feet and walked into the building, but instead of going to his desk, he went to Autopsy, hoping Ducky would be there.

He was.

"Ducky, do you have a minute?" Tim asked, hovering in the doorway.

Ducky looked up.

"Yes, I do, although not much more. What is it?" he asked.

Tim stepped inside. "Do you think that I should trust them?"

"Yes," Ducky said simply. "I think that this lesson, while painful and unnecessary for you, was important for them and they _have_ learned. Your resistance is based on fear not on reality at this point."

Tim dropped his head and looked at the floor. Ducky was one he trusted...maybe too much, if he were honest about it. He probably shouldn't rely on him so much, but at the same time, it was nice to have someone there.

"I'm afraid," Tim said softly.

"And I think you need not be...but I am not you, Timothy, and you must make your own decision."

Tim looked up and smiled. "I know. My therapist says the same thing. I know that Abby thinks I should let us all move on."

"But, at the end of the day, it is not us who has to live with your decision, it is you. While we are all affected by it, _you_ must live with it."

"I know."

Ducky chuckled. "That's what is so terrifying."

"Exactly."

"Consider this, Timothy. You have made frightening decisions already and they have turned out well." Ducky picked up a folder. "Now, I must take my leave. I have been asked to step in as a consultant with Metro PD. Jordan...or Dr. Hampton has asked for my advice, and the director has given me leave. I don't want to be late."

"Oh, sorry, Ducky. I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine, lad. I told you I had some time. That time is now up, but I'll see you later."

Tim nodded and let Ducky leave. Alone in Autopsy for a few moments, he thought about what to do next. It would be so much easier to let it all be over...but he couldn't do that, even with his fear.

He couldn't stay here. He didn't want to get in trouble for being late...in part because he wasn't sure he _would_. Gibbs was too easy on him sometimes, and Tim didn't like that but he didn't feel like he could complain about Gibbs being too nice. So he said nothing and tried to avoid giving any opportunity for Gibbs to be too nice.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The day passed mostly uneventfully. They started on a new case and spent all day working hard at it. No one went out after work. They stayed late and then went home to rest for the next day. That was the case the entire week. Gibbs gave Tim the chance to drive without making an issue out of it. Tim appreciated it but also said nothing. They went most of the week with no chance to do anything besides work. Abby was working hard as well, and when they got home, she and Tim were both very tired.

Finally, on Thursday, they had a breakthrough and were able to make an arrest. That meant that they could all plan on getting home early...or at least on time.

"Tim, we're going to decompress, get a drink or two. Want to come?" Tony asked.

Tim felt like this was the hardest test he'd ever taken and he really didn't want to fail it. He hated failing tests. Any tests. It didn't matter whether the tests had grades attached to them. That didn't matter at all. It was the test that mattered. This was a harder test because there was no grade but there _was_ fallout from whatever he decided.

"Tim?" Ziva asked.

Tim took a deep breath.

"Let me...check with Abby."

Tony and Ziva both stopped in their tracks.

"What?" Tony asked.

Tim forced a smile. "Don't tell me that you were just kidding, Tony...all these weeks. I don't think I could take it."

"You seem to be saying yes," Ziva pointed out.

"I know."

"And you mean it?"

"As long as Abby doesn't have other plans."

Tony still seemed inordinately surprised, but he covered it a bit.

"Great! I'll see if Jimmy wants to join us! We could always use his off-the-wall personality."

"Yeah, because we're all the picture of normalcy," Tim said.

"Of course!"

Tim nodded and headed for the lab.

"Abby?"

Abby didn't turn from her computer. "Tim, I'm almost ready. Just give me a couple of minutes."

"Do you want to get a drink with Tony and Ziva...and maybe Jimmy?"

Now, Abby turned around. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure of that?" she asked. "That wasn't exactly the sound of excitement."

Tim smiled. "I know, but I said I would go, so long as you didn't have any other plans."

"And you were hoping that I might?"

"Maybe...a little."

"No way, man," Abby said, grinning. "If you're saying yes, I'm not letting you get out of it."

"I hope you'll come along so that we don't have to be so awkward."

"Of course. I won't leave you to face that yourself."

"Good."

"Just give me another minute to get this into Major Mass Spec."

"Can do."

Tim waited quietly and Abby got her sample finished and then into the machine. She hurried into her office, grabbed her jacket and then came out.

"I'm ready!"

"Okay. Let's go."

Tim put his arm around Abby and she reciprocated. He felt her hand move a little lower on his waist and he cleared his throat...but with a smile on his face. Abby didn't say a word, but she didn't move her hand, either. In fact, as they rode up in the elevator, she found his weak spot, just below his ribs, and tickled him.

"Hey!" he said twisting away.

"Sorry, sorry. It was too easy," Abby said, although she didn't seem in the least repentant.

"Yeah, right," Tim said.

Then, the doors opened Abby was on her best behavior, although Tim could see that she considered that a major accomplishment.

"Jimmy's going to meet us there," Tony said. "You coming?"

"Yeah, I am," Tim said.

As they headed for the elevator, he happened to look up and saw Gibbs and Vance coming out of Vance's office.

In his head, Tim thought, _One down...how many to go..._

The elevator doors closed.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Gibbs watched the group leave and he felt a bit of hope. Tim had not once accepted an invitation, and they were offered frequently. Sure, they had all seemed a bit awkward, but that was to be expected at first.

"That's a good sign," Vance said from beside him.

Gibbs nodded in agreement. "It is."

"Maybe it's a good sign for you, too."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that Tim has let them back in. Maybe you're next."

"I don't know if I'd go that far."

"Well, you can be the pessimist all you want. I see something worth celebrating. By the way, Agent McGee has mentioned to me that he's worried you're being too easy on him, that you're letting things slide you shouldn't."

"Maybe I am," Gibbs said.

"That won't do anyone any good."

"I know."

"Just keep it in mind. This isn't a reprimand at this point. It's a suggestion."

Gibbs smiled a little.

"You sure about that?"

"Of course. If you start letting Agent McGee off for outright flaws in his work, _then_ it will be a problem."

"He wouldn't do that."

"Not intentionally, but Agent McGee is no more perfect than the rest of us are. So if he falls short, you'll need to call him out on it. If you can't do that, that's just as much of a problem as what you did before."

"Not as much," Gibbs said.

"Okay, maybe not as much, but it's still a problem. Don't let guilt stop you from keeping your people on task. It won't help and will only remind everyone about what's happened." Vance paused. "Jethro, it's great that you're learning from this, but don't let yourself go too far the other way. Finding that balance is going to be your most important task now."

Gibbs knew why Vance felt that, but personally, he felt that fixing the still-strained interactions he and Tim had was more important. The other would solve itself, but this would not.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The first night out _was _a bit awkward, but Jimmy and Abby helped keep things moving along, however oddly. It took at least an hour for Tim to stop being tense...and about as long for Tony and Ziva to stop worrying about saying the wrong thing. They had dinner and a couple of drinks, but conversation lagged after a couple of hours, and not even Abby and Jimmy could keep it going.

"I think we'd better leave before we embarrass ourselves," Tim said.

"We haven't had that much to drink," Tony protested.

"I know, but we're going to start staring at each other in embarrassed silence or else we _will_ drink enough to be genuinely embarrassing," Tim said with a smile. "I think we're not at the stage where we can deal with that yet."

Ziva grinned. "I think you are probably right. We have work tomorrow in any case."

She stood and walked around the table. Tim stood up as well, and Ziva leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"Congratulations on being able to drive, Tim. I am happy for you."

"Thanks."

Tony got up, clapped Tim on the shoulder and then followed Ziva out.

"How you doing?" Jimmy asked.

Tim shrugged. "This was better than I expected."

"Good! That means I won't have to come up with so many things to say, right?"

Abby laughed. "You did great, Jimmy."

"Thanks for coming along," Tim said. "I'm glad you were here."

"Well, you guys need a ride? I was the designated driver."

"We're taking a taxi," Tim said. "You don't need to go out of your way."

"I don't mind."

"I know. Hey, you on the schedule for tomorrow?"

Jimmy nodded and then looked a little like he was holding back big news.

"What is it, Jimmy?" Abby asked.

"I haven't really told anyone yet, but...man, I've been wanting to."

"What?" Tim asked.

"I'm done... well, not officially, but basically!"

"With what?"

Jimmy laughed. "Medical school! I'll have my degree. I'm graduating! ...and Director Vance is already making arrangements for my position to become permanent...and full time!"

"Wow!" Abby said and hugged Jimmy. "That's great, Jimmy! ...Dr. Palmer!"

"Congratulations, Jimmy!" Tim said. "That's amazing. It seems like you've been in medical school for forever."

"You're telling me," Jimmy said, grinning from ear to ear. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever finish."

"And you're going to be at NCIS still?"

"As long as Ducky doesn't get tired of me."

Abby laughed. "That'll never happen. Ducky loves you."

"Yeah, sure."

"As long as you keep listening to his stories," Tim said with a grin. "But really, when you're all finished and you have your degree in hand, we're going to have to celebrate. That's really great."

"Thanks, guys. I've been wanting to say it, but there was always so much other stuff going on."

Tim nodded ruefully. "I'm really sorry that all my problems were taking over."

"Oh, it's okay. I'm just glad you guys said you wanted me around still. I was a little worried that people would be wondering when I'd finally leave."

"Definitely not," Tim said firmly. "I'm glad you're planning on staying."

Abby was equally adamant as they made their way out to the street. They congratulated Jimmy a number of times as he headed to his car. Before they knew it, Jimmy had got them into his car and was driving them home. They talked easily all the way and once they arrived, Tim and Abby were almost surprised to be home.

"Good night," Jimmy said.

"Thanks for the ride, Jimmy," Tim said.

Jimmy just winked and drove off.

Tim and Abby walked inside together and paused to let Jethro frolic around them.

"Hey, Abbs...I'm going to write for a while, tonight."

It was actually the first time in a long time that Tim had sat down to write. Abby was happy to see him getting back to things he enjoyed, even if she had wanted to get to bed. ...but she kissed him.

"Don't stay up too late," she whispered.

"I won't. Promise."

Abby smiled. "Have fun."

"I'll keep the music down," Tim said.

He went into the study and slid the door shut behind him. Abby waited until she heard the soft music of Tim's record player. Then, she grinned and went upstairs. One more step along the path to Tim being happy.

Quickly, she got ready for bed and then settled down to wait for Tim to come up...or until she fell asleep waiting. Tim's definition of _too late_ was not always the same as Abby's when it came to him writing.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim sat down at the typewriter and thought about what he wanted to write. He didn't have much of a story going on right now. He hadn't found his new plot yet...but he just wanted to sit and write, without wondering where he was going with it.

The soft jazz made him smile. He typed random sentences, not really thinking about what he was writing, just enjoying the sound of the keys and the music.

After almost an hour of it, Tim read through what he'd typed and found a trend. Something that was on his mind.

_Wondering when it's going to be over, when coming in will be a simple part of the routine. Instead of a start to the tension. I sit at my desk and I am wondering how long this will last. Things are better, much better. It is getting easier all the time, but when will it be done?_

Tim could see where his mind was. He wanted to get through the next block, but he wasn't sure how to. At some point, he probably would need to talk to Gibbs again, but he wasn't sure if he should initiate it this time or if he should wait for Gibbs to do so. There had been moments when he worried that Gibbs was keeping himself from doing his job and was ignoring times that Tim knew he had screwed up. He had even mentioned it to Vance, wondering if it was a mistake to do so.

Shaking his head, Tim pulled out the paper and shredded it. Then, he turned off his record player and stood up, stretching as he headed to the door. A lot of things were going right. He needed to focus on that rather than on the fact that some things were still needing improvement. He went upstairs, turning off the lights as he walked, trying to keep quiet so that he wouldn't disturb Abby.

The bedroom was quiet and dark. Tim kept his steps as soft as possible. He put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth and then carefully slid into bed. He relaxed onto the mattress. The satin sheets weren't necessarily his favorite, but they were easy to move around on. Not much rustling.

He was surprised when Abby suddenly slid over and put her arms around him.

"I thought you were asleep," he said softly.

"I waited for you, but I was almost asleep," she whispered back. "I sleep better when you're here."

Tim pulled Abby close to him and kissed her gently.

"I love you, Tim."

"I love you, Abby."

"I'm glad you're driving again."

Tim laughed softly. "Me, too."

"Things are getting better."

"They are."

A short silence.

"Our house looks nice."

Tim smiled, thinking of how different the house was now.

"Yes, it does."

"And you're talking to Tony and Ziva again."

"Sort of."

"It'll get better. You know it will."

"I think so."

Abby very obviously didn't mention Gibbs. She was still as uncertain as Tim was about him. Right now, when he felt pretty good and relaxed, Tim wasn't in the mood to address that very uncertain part of his life. He just held his wife, glad that she was there.

"Good night, Abbs."

"Good night."

Abby shifted around a bit and rested her head on his chest so that she could hear his heart. As Abby slowly relaxed into sleep, Tim couldn't help wondering if Abby was frustrated that this was all they did. Of all the issues they still had to work through, intimacy was the biggest. Given the nature of Abby's betrayal, Tim just couldn't bring himself to feel that. Maybe they'd have to talk about it at some point, but Tim wasn't ready to do that either.

There was time. He took a deep breath and let himself fall asleep.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

Over the next couple of weeks, Tim took more time to hang out with Tony and Ziva, both during and after work. Not every day. Tim still said no when invited out. He just wasn't ready to be with them all the time. Like with Abby, they'd never spent all their free time together and Tim wasn't about to start doing that now, simply as a reaction to all that had happened. He liked his solitude at times and wasn't going to give it up if he didn't have to.

The difference was that he did say yes, and as they hung out more, Tim was better able to relax with them. As he relaxed, so did they...and so did Abby. Tim knew that she'd waited until he was ready to get back into normal friendships with Tony and Ziva. She'd long since forgiven them, but she didn't want to appear to be supporting them against her husband. She had Tim back and there was no way she was letting him go. Tim appreciated it, and it was an improvement for him.

Tony and Ziva saw their overstepping and backed off a bit. Like Tim, they recognized that they were going beyond what was necessary and it was a relief not to feel like there was a requirement to hang out all the time. It should be something enjoyable, not required. That understanding led to something closer to their previous friendship. They weren't there yet, but they were getting there.

There were places of strain remaining, however. While Tim was more relaxed around Gibbs, there was still quite a bit of tension. Neither could forget what Gibbs had done to him and why. Even if they had come a long way in addressing it, the events hovered around like the big elephant in the room. As the other sources of tension eased, those that remained became more and more obvious. Finally, Tim took a deep breath and walked to Gibbs' desk.

"We need to talk, Boss," he said.

The ensuing silence took Tim by surprise. He looked around and noticed both Tony and Ziva staring at him, almost in shock. Then, he looked at Gibbs and was doubly surprised to see the same expression on his face.

Still, Gibbs said nothing. He just nodded and stood up, gesturing for Tim to precede him to the elevator. Tim walked ahead of him. The elevator started to descend, and Tim took the initiative of stopping it in its tracks.

"What is it, Tim?"

"First, tell me why you were all so shocked up there," Tim said.

"That's easy. You called me _Boss_. You haven't done that since I hit you."

Tim thought back. Yes, he _had_ used that particular title in speaking to Gibbs...and no, he _hadn't_ used it in a long time.

"Why is it so surprising, though?" Tim asked. "It's not like I hadn't been using it for the last seven years or more."

"Because it means you're more likely to forgive me...eventually."

"Because I used a name out of habit?"

Gibbs smiled a little and nodded.

"I'm not following," Tim said.

"I don't care what you call me, Tim. Gibbs, Boss, heck, even Jethro...although I'd be surprised if you did. Doesn't matter much to me, but it matters to _you_. _Boss_ comes naturally to you, mostly because you heard Tony using it so often when you started out and you followed his lead. Every time you were calling me _Gibbs_, you were overriding your habit and intentionally using something that meant you were not seeing me the same way. For you to be comfortable enough to fall back on habit means something, whether you realize it or not."

Tim considered that interesting interpretation of his use of a single word when his mind had been focused on instigating a conversation with someone he still didn't fully trust. Did it mean what Gibbs thought it meant or was that just wishful thinking on his part? Tim couldn't say for sure.

"Do names really mean that much?" Tim asked. ...and after asking it, he realized that it was a genuine question. He wanted to know what Gibbs thought about it.

"Yes," Gibbs said simply.

"Why?"

"You tell me."

"You're the one who thinks they do," Tim said. "You're the one who should have some explanation for it."

Gibbs shrugged. "Why did you start calling me _Gibbs_? If names don't mean anything, why change how you talked to me?"

"Why have you started calling me _Tim_?" Tim asked. "You almost never did before. Why now?"

"Because it's your name and I should use it."

"Why? If that's the case, why now and not before?"

Gibbs smiled. "Because it reminds me of something I almost destroyed without even realizing I had it."

"And what's that?" Tim asked.

"A team."

"You didn't know you had a team?" Tim asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism.

"A team with a full compliment...one that included a man I never understood because I didn't think I needed to. A man I imposed on time and again without expressing any gratitude because I assumed that it was understood. ...and a man who tried to follow one of my own rules but wasn't allowed to...and almost died because of _my_ stupidity. I misjudged you, Tim, and I need to remind myself of that because, if you forgive me for it, _I _can't let myself forget what I almost destroyed. So I use your first name because of that and because it's your name. Names mean a lot. Why did you stop calling me _Boss_?"

Tim was almost in shock that Gibbs had actually _answered_ him. No prevarication, no delaying tactics, no forcing Tim to answer his own question. Just a direct answer. Tim was so surprised that he didn't even notice that Gibbs had asked him a question in return.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you stop calling me _Boss_?"

"Oh. ...it wasn't really a conscious decision at first," Tim said. "It was...I guess... me needing to...separate myself from you. Using that title implied something I didn't feel was real."

"What?"

Tim smiled. "That I belong to this team you say you have. I've always been treated differently, and what you did to me you would _never_ have done to anyone else on your team. I still think I'm right about that, even now. If it had been Tony in my place, you wouldn't have gone the route you did. That being the case, the natural conclusion is that I never _was_ a part of the team. I was a graft, an unnatural graft that needed to be removed...or at least, I needed to acknowledge that the graft wasn't working and to separate myself from it. So, I'm your employee. I'm not your friend. I'm not really a teammate. I'm not...anything else. ...although you didn't even show me the respect you _would_ show an employee."

"No, I didn't."

"To me...using only a last name is a sign of...of distance more than anything else. I know it's not always that way because there's a culture in which it's normal...but that culture isn't mine. That's the culture of the military, the culture of the jocks...neither of which I am or ever have been. Calling you by your last name removes any connection that I might have deluded myself was present. You are Agent Gibbs. You are in charge. Nothing more."

"And is that how you still feel?"

"More or less," Tim said. "I haven't really seen anything that would change my point of view. I can see that you're trying to do things differently, but I can't see that I was wrong about how you saw me before. Am I?" This was a genuine question.

Gibbs seemed to think about it for a long time.

"I don't know, Tim."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Tim asked incredulously. "How can you _not_ know how you thought of me?"

"Honestly? I don't analyze those things as much as you do, Tim. I take things as they come and I'm used to dealing with things in a certain way. I'm not saying it's a good thing, but I'm not lying here. I really don't know...but I can say that you're probably right to some degree. You're a different kind of person and I didn't know how to deal with that. So I dealt with it the way I do everything. I didn't bother trying to change my approach. I just assumed it would work. I was wrong."

"Yeah. Go figure," Tim said.

Gibbs smiled a little.

"Didn't say I was right."

"And now what?" Tim asked.

"Well, you're the one who wanted to talk to me. What was it?"

Tim laughed a little. He'd almost forgotten why he'd wanted to talk, but really, what they were discussing was part and partial of what was still wrong. The residual tension they both felt.

"Mostly about this. You and me...and these things that are...still there. What we talked about before, only I'm better prepared for it this time. I've dealt with some of these things separately. What I want to know is if you think there's more to come or if this is the best we'll get."

"What do _you _think?" Gibbs asked.

Tim smiled a little. "I asked you first."

Gibbs chuckled.

"It depends on you more than on me, Tim."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're the one with the power to choose how things go. If you decide it's not going to work, it's not going to work. If _I_ think it will, doesn't matter if you disagree with me. You're choosing here, Tim, not me."

"I'm tired of being the one who has to choose."

"I'm sorry, but if I choose, I would say that we can get further than we are...but if you don't think that's going to happen, it's not. What will it take, Tim?"

"I guess I want the impossible."

"What is it?"

For the first time since stepping into the elevator, Tim felt like he couldn't maintain eye contact. He turned toward the wall.

"What do you want, Tim?"

"I want...to know that I am considered valuable as a person, not just as an extension of a computer. I want to be a part of this team. I don't want to be looking in from the outside wondering what it is that I'm missing, what I'm doing wrong."

"You're not doing anything wrong."

"Maybe not, but it _feels_ like I am. Maybe it's just a flaw in me that I can't stand here and see things being so different. Maybe _I_ need to change, but I really don't know how when I had such a drastic, nearly-fatal demonstration of how differently I am perceived by the people I work with. I'm getting through that with Tony and with Ziva. ...but you...what if I had died...Gibbs? What if you had actually killed me? How would you have felt before you knew that what you thought was so _totally_ wrong? Not only wrong but ridiculous! Would you have felt any guilt for killing someone you'd worked with for years? Would it have occurred to you that maybe you had gone overboard, made a mistake? Before you say anything, I _know_ there's no way of answering that kind of a question, but it's hammering at my brain over and over."

"What is?"

"You were willing to kill me without giving me a chance." Tim turned back. "No opportunity to even plead for mercy! You've had _admitted_ killers in your hands that you have given more chances than you gave me. I know you can't go back in time. I know that you can't change what you did, but that kind of _perception_. It's just hard for me to...to get past that."

"Do you _want_ to?"

Tim smiled a little. That was actually a _good_ question.

"I actually don't know. I can't help wondering if getting past it would just be opening myself up to another attack...by you. Part of me wants to say yes right away and part of me wants to say no just as quickly. The problem is that I don't know which one I should listen to."

Tim looked at Gibbs and took a deep breath. This was something he wasn't sure he wanted to do, but he felt like he needed to do it. He felt like it was necessary in order to move on.

"I want you tell me something, Boss," Tim said, earnestly. "I want you to look at yourself. I want you to analyze who you are, how you might have changed, what you think. I want you to tell me: Do I have to worry about that anymore? If you promise to be honest with me about it, then I will believe you. If you tell me that I don't have to worry, then I will take you at your word and I will really try to get past what you did to me. ...but you have to tell me because I cannot even _imagine_ how you are thinking, how you _were_ thinking. I need you to tell me."

What Tim saw in Gibbs' eyes told him more than whatever Gibbs might say in words. For once, Gibbs either hadn't tried or hadn't succeeded in hiding what he was feeling. There was a long silence. A very long silence and Gibbs' focus was obviously turned inward to the kind of self-analysis he probably didn't do especially often.

Tim just waited. He had said what he needed to say and now it was up to Gibbs to tell him...mostly to verify what Tim thought he could see already.

The elevator was silent.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50**

Tony looked worriedly at the elevator.

"They have been in there quite a long time," Ziva said.

"Maybe they've killed each other," Tony said.

"We would have heard something."

Tony chuckled.

"Yeah, a faint cry for help...but I don't know who it would be from."

"Okay...what's up with the elevator?" Lovitz asked. "Or do I already know?"

"Tim and Gibbs," Tony said.

"At whose instigation?" Geri asked.

"Not Gibbs'," Ziva said.

"And yet..._still_ in the elevator," Lovitz said, shaking his head. "You know what? Director Vance should just use some of the budget to build an inoperable elevator that Gibbs can use as his office. Then, the elevator can be used as an _elevator_."

Tony chuckled. "After all these years, I'd have thought you'd be used it."

"I am. Doesn't mean I like it," Lovitz said with a faint smile. "What are they talking about?"

"I don't know. We're wondering if they've come to blows."

"They have not," Ziva said. "Tony is simply being melodramatic."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Tim and Gibbs walked off, both incredibly silent but neither looking particularly bothered.

"Gibbs, you really should get an office, you know," Lovitz said.

Gibbs smiled. "Can't afford it, Lovitz."

"Yeah, I'll bet. Could you at least schedule these things to times when I'm not trying to use the elevator?"

"I'll work on that."

Lovitz looked at Tim who had seated himself at his desk and was back at work, albeit silently.

"Agent McGee?"

Tim looked up and just smiled a little without speaking. Lovitz nodded as if he understood perfectly.

"Remember that you're not the only person working here, Gibbs," Lovitz said finally, but without malice.

"I will."

Lovitz and Geri headed over to their desks, and Tony looked from Gibbs to Tim and back again.

"Everything okay, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Yeah."

"Tim?" Ziva asked.

"It's fine, Ziva," Tim said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said and then smiled. "And I think I'll pass on hanging out tonight."

Tony laughed. "Gotcha, Probie. No invites today."

"Thanks."

The rest of the day passed with uncommon silence...but Tony noticed that there was a lot less tension in the air...but at the same time, a _lot_ less talking. Neither Tim nor Gibbs were revealing what they had talked about, although the general topic was pretty obvious. Still, it was clear that Tony and Ziva were _not_ welcome to ask...not yet, anyway.

Work continued on as usual, and when the day was over, Tim left. He had gone down to Abby's lab during the day, stayed down there for lunch and Abby didn't appear to be joining Tim in his departure, but there hadn't been any sign of problems. Still...

"What's going on, do you think?" Tony asked.

Ziva shrugged. "Things are changing, Tony. A lot."

"About time," Tony said. "I think we've all _needed_ that change."

"So long as it is a good change."

"Good _or_ bad...things couldn't keep on the way they were, and you know it. We've got things moving on _our_ side, but on Gibbs' side...it's kind of been...just marking time."

"Yes. You are right. It is time for things to change. ...and I think it is a good change."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see. Tim was talking less than Gibbs was."

Ziva nodded and smiled. "Yes. He was thinking rather than speaking. He does that."

"Yeah. And I know this will sound like I haven't learned anything, but I hate being kept out of things."

"I hope that you will respect Tim's need to keep quiet for now."

"Yeah, I will. I've learned my lesson."

Ziva smiled. "Would you like to invite Abby to get a drink with us?"

"Sure! Why not?"

Tony headed down to the lab. When he came in, it was quiet. No music.

"Abby?" he called uncertainly.

"Hey, Tony! What's up?"

"I was about to ask you? No music?"

Abby laughed. "My stereo broke. I'm going to replace it tonight when I leave. Tim tried to fix it. It's burned out. I've had that stereo for _years_, Tony! I hate having to replace something I've had for so long."

"You can get a better one!"

"Yeah, but...still!"

Tony lifted his hands in surrender. "Do you want to get a drink with Ziva and me? We're heading out now."

Abby considered. "Sure! We can start planning Jimmy's graduation party!"

"Are you sure Jimmy will want that?"

"Considering the fact that he felt like he had to keep it a secret while we were all dealing with our problems...yeah, I think he will. Now, he might not enjoy the _results_, but he'll want us to give him a party," Abby said, grinning mischievously.

"Okay. Nothing _too_ crazy, Abbs."

"Right. Let me shut down my stuff and I'll come with you."

"What about Tim?"

"He wanted to talk to Ducky."

"Did he tell you what he and Gibbs talked about?"

Abby shook her head. "He said he'd tell me what happened later tonight, but he's meeting with his therapist and then he's talking with Ducky."

"Shucks. Gibbs wasn't talking either...but then, that's pretty normal for him."

Abby laughed. "I think it was a good thing, whatever it was, Tony, and I think that...once Tim has really processed everything, he'll be willing to tell you if you ask."

"You're really calm about this, Abby."

"I'm working on it, but more than I want to force Tim to tell me what's going on, I don't want to push him when he's finally dealing with the Gibbs stuff. I'll wait, and he'll tell me."

"Well, if _you_ can wait, then I guess I can, too."

"You'd better. I'm ready to go."

"Okay."

Tony bowed regally and let Abby precede him out of the lab.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim knocked on Ducky's door. He'd taken the time to call first. He knew that he'd imposed on Ducky quite a lot in the last few months and giving him a chance to say that he was too busy was important.

The door opened.

"Timothy, come inside."

"Hi, Ducky. How are you?"

Ducky chuckled. "I know why you're here, Timothy, and I don't feel ignored. You don't need to ask."

"Well...Jimmy was keeping his good news a secret because of all that's been going on. I feel bad about that. Jimmy shouldn't feel like he has to do that. I don't want to forget about other people's lives."

"Don't feel bad about it, Timothy. It's a decision he made. I have the time to speak to you, and you wished to ask me questions, I'm assuming."

"Kind of. I more...want to talk through what I've done."

"Well, come in. No need to stand here in the entry gabbing."

Tim smiled and followed Ducky into the study.

"Tea?"

"No, thanks."

"I haven't converted you, I see?"

"Sorry. No."

"Ah, well. No one is perfect."

Tim grinned.

"So...you spoke with your therapist already tonight?"

"Yeah, but...I knew what she'd say, but I didn't want to talk to anyone else at NCIS because they have too much interest in what went on. They all just want me to move on. I don't blame them, but I don't know that I can trust their opinions."

"Are you speaking of your discussion with Jethro in the elevator?"

"Yeah. You heard about it?"

"Of course, I did. You think I have no vested interest?"

"You do, but I feel like you'll be more objective, seeing both sides."

"What happened?"

"We talked...and I was more...I was calmer than I was the last time."

"And?"

"Gibbs wants me to decide whether or not I can fully forgive him for...for hitting me, but also for thinking that of me without giving me any chance to speak. I told him that I wasn't sure if I could get past it. He asked me if I wanted to, and I'm not sure about that, either. ...but I asked him to tell me whether or not I had anything to worry about on that score. I asked him to think about his own mind and tell me if he thought it was a problem."

"And?" Ducky asked.

"And...even before he said anything, I knew what was coming."

"How?"

"Because he didn't say anything right away," Tim said. "We stood there, staring at each other for about ten minutes. We didn't say anything. I almost said that he didn't need to answer. I had my answer."

"How did saying nothing answer your question?"

"He didn't have an answer ready. No matter how much Gibbs can anticipate, I don't see how he could have expected what I asked him. He actually did think about it before answering."

"What was his answer, then?"

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"_You're being pretty patient," Gibbs said._

"_It's important. I can wait."_

_Gibbs nodded._

_Another long silence._

"_You don't have to worry," Gibbs said. "I'm sorry that I had to learn this way, but I _have_. I'd never make this mistake again."_

_Tim took a deep breath and let it out._

"_Okay."_

_He turned back on the elevator._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So...what is your question for me?"

"Am I making a mistake? I feel like he's telling the truth. I don't think he's lying...but what he did before..."

"You said that you wanted him to tell you and that you'd believe him. You think you can, but you're still questioning it?"

"Yeah. I know that's ridiculous."

"Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

"If you truly want to get back to an easier situation, to better relationships, you'll have to take another risk...and you'll have to compromise by being willing to let go of the past and look to the future. You've started down that path with the others but you've been incredibly hesitant to do so with Jethro."

"That's because he almost killed me, Ducky. I almost died...and for nothing! It actually scares me a little still."

"Then, _that_ is something you should definitely discuss with your therapist. It's no wonder you would be traumatized by that event, but if it's holding you back from your life, if you truly feel that you should be able to trust Jethro again, then, you need to address it."

"Yeah." Tim nodded slowly. "Can I ask you something, Ducky?"

"On a different subject?"

"Different person. Same subject...but it's...more...personal."

"What is it?"

"Me and Abby."

Ducky nodded. "What about you?"

Tim hesitated. He had been wanting to ask _someone_ about this, but he felt so awkward. This was more private than other things. Still, Ducky had not betrayed his confidence once in this whole mess, _and_ Ducky had been willing to listen to him.

"Timothy?"

"Abby and I...we..." Tim took a breath and just let it out. "We haven't had sex since she cheated on me. ...and I know that she wants to, but I haven't felt...ready."

"Safe?"

"Maybe."

"Have you felt the desire?"

"Maybe."

"Then, I would venture to guess that whatever desire you have felt is swiftly buried beneath your worries?"

"Yeah."

"What is your question, then?"

"Do you think I'm wrong?"

Ducky laughed a little. "Here, my boy, I'm afraid you will have to feel it out for yourself. I would not venture to guess whether or not you should be intimate with your wife. That truly is something that must remain between the two of you. I would suggest that you engage in the same kind of self-reflection you asked of Jethro. Analyze how you feel, what you want, what you're willing to do to get it. Then, perhaps, this is something you may want to discuss with your wife...but not with me."

Tim nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm still...working on that...stuff."

"Understandable."

Tim stood.

"Thanks for letting me talk with you about it, Ducky. I just needed to talk it out aloud."

"You're very welcome. And Timothy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let yourself put off _any_ of your decisions too long. You know what dangers lie in procrastinating."

"I do."

"Good. Now, go home."

Tim opened the door and then turned back.

"You know what, Ducky?"

"What?"

"It actually _feels_ like my home."

"Good. Good night, lad."

Tim smiled. "Good night, Ducky. Thanks again."

He went home and sat down with Abby. She snuggled close to him as he told her an abbreviated version of his conversation with Gibbs. She listened quietly, and when he got to the end, she managed to restrain her joy...mostly, but she did admit that she was glad Tim and Gibbs were beginning to get better.

As they sat there, Tim thought about how nice it felt to be holding his wife, but he still couldn't bring himself to go further. He didn't mention that part of his conversation with Ducky. Instead, they went to bed.

Tim lay awake, long after Abby had fallen asleep.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

"So...Agent McGee...what caused you and Gibbs to take up the elevator for so long yesterday?" Tony asked with exaggerated care.

Tim looked at Tony and glanced at Ziva. Tony was looking at him, but Ziva was pretending to stare at her computer screen...and she was obviously listening with interest.

"We...were talking."

"About what?"

"Stuff," Tim said with a smile.

"What stuff? And how did it turn out?"

"It turned out...okay. Gibbs and I are...on a more even keel now than we were before. We just needed to discuss it a bit. We did. Things are better. Not perfect...but better."

"Nothing is perfect," Ziva said, giving up her pretense of working. "Nothing is _ever_ perfect."

"I'm beginning to see that," Tim said ruefully.

"You've got to have known _that_ already," Tony said.

"Yeah...sure."

"You don't sound very sure."

"Maybe I'm not. Doesn't matter. I've started seeing it if I hadn't before."

"Sounds good to me," Ziva said. "It is a good thing to know. I am glad of it. _We _are not perfect."

"Neither am I," Tim said.

"And you know what? That's okay, too," Tony said.

"Yeah."

"And Abby's not perfect, either," Tony said, after hesitating for a moment.

Tim looked at him in surprise.

"I hope I didn't...overstep here."

"You didn't. Just wasn't what I was expecting to hear."

"Good. I don't want to stick my nose in. That was my problem in the beginning of all this. I just...wanted to point it out."

Tim nodded. "Thanks."

"So...uh...we need your help," Tony said finally...moving on from the awkward conversation.

"With what?"

"Stopping your wife from ruining Jimmy's graduation by throwing him an insane party."

Tim smiled.

"It's not funny! You didn't hear her last night, Tim!" Tony said. "She's insane!"

"I think that we must stop her from making a circus."

"A circus?"

"She's being literal," Tony said. "Abby threatened to reserve a circus...and make us...trapeze artists."

Tim laughed.

"Laugh if you like, but she was serious."

"If that's what she is thinking, I don't know if I can change her mind. I can try."

"Please, please, _please_ try," Tony said. "I wouldn't put it past her to get the evil clown from IT!"

"She's not _that_ bad," Tim said.

"You may be able to rein her in," Ziva said. "We are going to plan more tonight. You must come along and help."

Tim laughed again but he nodded. "I'll be there."

"Thank you!" Tony said.

Gibbs strode in and they all got to work. Tony caught Tim's eye one more time.

_Thank you!_ he mouthed silently.

Gibbs raised his eyebrow at Tim.

Tim nodded.

That was all.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim went with Tony, Ziva and Abby to a bar after work and they talked for over an hour, arguing about what kind of a party they should throw for Jimmy. Abby wanted to go over-the-top as a way of making up for Jimmy not being able to share his good news. Tony and Ziva were insistent that they should take him out on the town, to a club or something like that. Tim suggested something tamer. Dinner or something.

"You know...perhaps we should...ask Jimmy," Ziva said finally. "Maybe he himself has a preference."

"But then it won't be a surprise!" Abby said.

"But he might actually enjoy himself. Is not that more important?"

"I guess..."

"I'm okay with asking him," Tim said, shrugging.

"I'd like it to be a surprise," Tony said, "but I guess maybe it should be Jimmy's choice. It's supposed to be _his_ graduation."

"Then, let's call him," Tim said. "Invite him to join us and throw out his options."

"Sure!" Abby said. "Tony, call him!"

Tony widened his eyes and then nodded. He called Jimmy and invited him over to the bar without telling him why. When he arrived, they instantly told him what they were doing. He tried to tell them that they didn't need to throw him a party, but they insisted that he was going to get a party. It was just a matter of what he _wanted_ from them. Jimmy nixed Abby's idea (she pouted), but he liked the idea of dinner...but maybe with something more than just dinner. Dinner and something more after. He said that they could surprise him on that, but nothing too crazy.

It turned into a mini party right there with Abby suggesting crazier and crazier things which turned into them all trying to one-up each other, culminating in a suggestion by Jimmy of a trip in the Vomit Comet. By the time they left, they were all laughing, not because they were drunk (they had to work the next day), but because they had been having fun.

Tim and Abby went home together and went to bed without talking much, but Tim stayed awake, as he had for the last few nights and thought about the woman he was holding in his arms. An idea began to grow in his mind, something that might or might not work but was worth trying.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby watched Tim as he got ready for work. There was something on his mind, and she couldn't figure out what it was. It was as if he had withdrawn but not exactly because he was focused on her...more than usual, actually. Whenever she looked at him, she found that he was already staring at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Tim?" she asked as they were cleaning up breakfast.

He leaned in and kissed her gently.

"Ask me tonight," he said softly. "I'll tell you tonight."

"Okay. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. There are some things that I need to do today, but I'll tell you tonight."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim looked covertly around the bullpen. Tony and Ziva were out for lunch. Gibbs was...somewhere else. No one would see him go up to Vance's office. He wasn't sure if Vance would be there, but he wanted to get up there without witnesses...who would ask awkward questions he wasn't ready to answer and would probably _never_ want to discuss in detail.

Quickly, he ran up the stairs and into the outer office.

"Hi, Pamela. Is Director Vance in?"

"Yes, Agent McGee, but he's in a meeting. Do you have an appointment."

"I don't. Is there a chance that he'll be done soon?"

"I can ask him. If he can't answer, he won't. Would you like me to?"

"Yes, please," Tim said, feeling more nervous about what he wanted to do.

"Have a seat."

Tim sat down and started bouncing one of his feet on the floor. Pamela called into Vance's office with a raised eyebrow at Tim's tic. He smiled and tried to stop fidgeting.

"Hello, Director. Agent McGee is out here and was wondering if you had time to speak with him."

"Tell him it's not urgent," Tim said quickly.

"He says it's not urgent," Pamela repeated dutifully.

There was a pause while she listened and then nodded and hung up.

"His meeting should be over in about five minutes if you'd like to wait."

Tim nodded. "I would."

"All right. How are you doing?"

"Fine," Tim said, awkwardly. He hadn't made much conversation with Pamela in the past and sitting there across from her felt weird. He didn't know what to say...so he lapsed into silence. Pamela didn't seem unsettled at all. She just went back to work and let Tim sit there. Awkwardly.

After a few awkward minutes, the door to Vance's office opened, Tim slid back on the chair, not wanting to be noticed if possible. He didn't recognize the man who came out of the office, but he dropped his eyes to the floor. For some reason, he felt like a kid in the principal's office, like he was doing something wrong...even though he knew that was silly. He saw the person walk by...or rather, he saw the shoes pass by.

"Agent McGee?"

Tim forced himself to raise his eyes.

"Director."

"Come on in."

"Thanks. It shouldn't take very long."

"That's fine."

Vance gestured and Tim hurried to go into the office.

"Have a seat."

Tim sat down with a thump and flushed.

"Why are you so nervous?" Vance asked.

"Well...I have something to ask you, and if the answer is absolutely not, I completely understand. Abby and I...in the last...year...we've missed a lot of work, and so if it's possible..."

"Ask me, first, Agent McGee," Vance said with a bit of a smile. "Then, you can let _me_ decide."

Tim flushed again and nodded.

"Okay. What I wanted to ask is if Abby and I can take a weekend off. Friday and Saturday...and Sunday and we'd be back on Monday. I'm pretty easily replaced since I'm just one part of the team, but I know that Abby is harder."

"Don't discount your own place, Agent McGee, and Mrs. McGee has spoken with me a few times about the possibility of her training an assistant who could carry on in her absence."

"_Abby_ said that?" Tim asked in shock.

"I may have suggested it first, but she is starting to see the wisdom in having a trained replacement. This won't help for your current request, but in the future, it will make the possibility easier to accommodate."

"Wow. I had no idea. Huh." Tim thought about it for a few seconds and the refocused. "It would be two days off since neither of us generally work on Sundays, but it would be...two days off."

"When?"

"This weekend, if it was possible. If not, then, whenever it was possible."

"This weekend won't work, but I don't see any reason why next wouldn't. Put in the request to HR, let Agent Gibbs know. If there are any questions from either of them, forward them to me."

"That's fine. Thank you."

Vance nodded and then sat down beside Tim.

"Now, can you tell me why you're making this request?"

Tim nodded. "There are a couple of reasons. When all this started, after Abby told me what she'd done, we had discussed taking some time off just to be together and start figuring things out. Obviously, that didn't happen. So we've had to figure things out another way. But there are other things that...that we need to address and I feel like it will be easier if we have some extended time alone together, away from here, no call in to work, not dealing with the others, just for a couple of days."

"Sounds like it could be a good idea."

"I hope that Abby agrees. I haven't talked to her about it yet because I wanted to make sure it was going to work."

Vance smiled. "All right. Would you two like to join us for dinner this weekend...since you won't be going on a vacation?"

Tim grinned. "I'll ask Abby about that, too."

"Good. Don't forget to submit the request. If you put it off, HR may complain enough that I'll have to give in."

"I understand. Thank you."

"Go back to work, Agent McGee."

Tim stood. "Yes, sir."

He hurried back down to the bullpen, relieved that he'd beat everyone back there. He got back to work, thinking about how he'd suggest this to Abby. He hoped she'd be happy about it, but he wanted to make it clear that it wasn't set in stone as yet.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Abby was working on a sample from Norfolk, preparing the slide, hoping to get it done quickly. She didn't want to stay late.

After she put the slide in for analysis, she watched the machine get started.

...and then she was startled by arms sliding around her waist...and a gentle kiss on her neck. She leaned back and felt Tim's familiar form. He hadn't been so...close to her in a long time.

"What's the occasion?" she asked softly.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"How would you feel about taking next Friday and Saturday off and...and going somewhere by ourselves for a weekend?"

Abby wanted to turn around, but she was sure that her shock was showing on her face and she didn't want Tim to see that.

"By ourselves?"

"Just the two of us."

"Don't start singing," Abby said, starting to smile.

Tim chuckled. "I won't. I wouldn't want to inflict that on you."

"Thanks. I would _love_ to do that...if we can."

"We can. I checked with Vance, just to be sure it would work out. Next weekend if that works for you. Jimmy's graduation party is in a few weeks. So we still have time to plan."

Abby turned around and hugged Tim tightly.

"Yes! Tim, yes! I am _so_ excited!"

Tim let out a loud exhalation that sounded relieved. Had he really been worried she'd say no?

"So where are we going?"

"I thought we could figure that out together."

Abby pulled back and smiled.

"That sounds great."

"Oh, and Leon invited us to dinner this weekend."

"Okay."

Tim hugged her tightly. He took a breath.

"I do love you, Abby."

"And I love you."


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

"So, Tim, where are you and Mrs. McGee going this weekend?" Tony asked.

Tim smiled. "That's a secret, Tony."

"What? A secret?" Tony pouted.

"I wouldn't put it past you to show up and try to see what we're doing, Tony," Tim said.

"I would never!"

"Tony, that is such a lie," Ziva said. "You might hide, but you would be there."

"I would _not_!" Tony protested. "I know my limits! ...I'd at least stay in a different hotel!"

Ziva laughed.

"I'm not telling you where we're going, Tony," Tim said. "...and neither will Abby. We want to be alone. We're not telling anyone."

"Not even the Boss?"

"Bruce Springsteen doesn't need to know where we're staying," Tim said with a straight face.

There was a moment of surprised silence and then Tony let out a guffaw.

"Oh, good one, McGee. I'm impressed," he said. "...and you _almost _distracted me from my question."

Tim smiled. "Did I?"

"You're not going to tell me _anything_, are you," Tony said.

"I've already told you that Abby and I are taking a few days off. You should feel privileged," he said dramatically.

"Oh, I do," Tony said sarcastically.

Tim smiled and gathered his stuff.

"Don't redo everything we've already done for Jimmy's party," Tim said. "The plans are good."

"I will not let him," Ziva said. "Enjoy your vacation."

"I hope we will."

Tim headed out of NCIS. Abby had a last-minute sample to run and had told him to head home without her. He was taking the Metro, so that Abby could have the car.

"McGee."

Tim turned.

"Yeah?"

Gibbs jogged to catch up.

"Heard you need a ride home."

"I'm taking the Metro. Gets me pretty close."

"I'll give you a ride."

Tim considered and then nodded.

"Okay. Thanks."

They walked together to the car. Mostly in silence. Neither feeling the need to speak...or else just not knowing what to say. Although they had moved forward, they weren't totally at ease with each other as yet. There was some awkwardness. Tim had been talking with his therapist about his lingering fear and it was helping him work through it.

"Thanks, Tim," Gibbs said after a few minutes.

"For what?" Tim asked. He couldn't think of anything he'd done differently lately.

"Just for being willing to do your job and work with me."

Tim smiled. "It hasn't been easy. We're...not back to where we were, Boss. It'll take time. Maybe a long time. It's hard to forget."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not asking for that, but you're still giving me a real chance."

"I believed you when you said I had nothing to worry about," Tim said. "I said I would and I do. Doesn't mean that it's not still awkward, though."

Gibbs chuckled a little. "Yeah."

"I wanted to thank _you_ for not giving me the third degree about Abby and I taking the weekend off. HR gave me some grief and I was really glad that I didn't have to go to Vance over your head. He said that I could, but it doesn't look good to have to circumvent my supervisor to get time off."

"For whom?" Gibbs asked.

"For both of us," Tim said. "People still think badly enough of you that they might decide you were being vindictive, but it might also look like I couldn't fight my own battles if I went to Vance. I didn't want to have to do that, but Abby and I need this; so I would have felt like that was my only other option. It could have waited, I guess, but I didn't want to make Abby wait any longer."

"Any longer for what?"

Tim shrugged. The last thing he wanted was to discuss his sex life (or lack thereof) with Gibbs.

"Just stuff."

To his surprise, Gibbs accepted his evasion and nodded. Tim was relieved. They got to Tim's home and he opened the door.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You may not want advice from me, but don't put off getting what you want. If you're afraid of getting something you want, especially if you had it once...you'll never get it."

Tim turned back to Gibbs.

"Just a suggestion. Enjoy your weekend."

"Thanks."

Tim felt as though he was expressing gratitude for more than one thing, but he just got out of the car and headed inside. He would be happy to start this vacation.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Friday..._

Tim and Abby drove inland. They didn't have time to go far; so they had found a luxury inn that was far enough from DC to be isolated from the people they knew, giving them time to be together without being disturbed...by anyone.

When they arrived, they checked in and went to their room, their _suite_. They spent the afternoon investigating the area, finding a few shops to look at, a couple of antique shops. They ate dinner and then went back to the inn. The suite was large and had a small sitting area which faced a lovely fireplace. They sat down and looked at each other for a few awkward seconds. Then, Tim decided just to dive in. It wasn't going to get easier the longer he waited.

"I'm still afraid, Abby," he said, finally. "I'm afraid to take that step."

Abby looked down. Then, she moved over to sit beside him.

"I know why you're afraid, Tim...but at the same time, I don't know what to do to make it better. I really don't."

"That's why I wanted to do this. Maybe...maybe if we take it slow, we can get there. I love you, and I really do want to get that back again...but it's not going to be easy for me. I'll just say it: Every time I think of having sex with you again...I remember that you..."

"...had sex with another man."

"Yeah. It's just kind of...hard to forget and it's..."

Abby took Tim's hands.

"Do you _want_ to, Tim?"

"Yes."

Abby inhaled deeply and then smiled. "Okay. It won't be as good as our honeymoon."

Tim smiled, too. "I know. It'll give us something to shoot for."

"You know what? It feels weird planning it. We've never planned. It's always just...happened. It's kind of...strange to talk about it."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. I agree." He took another breath and decided to say something more. "When I kissed you...when we were working on the living room...I wasn't sure about doing it. I wanted to see if there was still anything there...because, if there wasn't, it wouldn't be fair to you to keep on going, but I was afraid that there wouldn't be, that after all that had happened, I'd lost that."

"And?" Abby asked after a few seconds.

"And there was something there. Not as...passionate as it was before, but there was something. You've been so patient waiting for me to work through this. It's time to...try again."

"Tim, that's not very romantic, you know."

"I know... How about this?" he asked, feeling more self-conscious than ever. "How about...I know that I can love you with my heart. Will you let me see if I can love you with my body?"

Tears welled up in Abby's eyes and she smiled.

"Yeah...Tim. That's a lot better."

She leaned in and kissed him. At first, that's all it was, but then, Abby leaned into the kiss and broke apart just long enough to whisper.

"Let's try now, Tim."

As he had with the kiss before, Tim felt himself starting to analyze whether or not it was a good idea, whether or not this was the right time. Finally, he tried to abandon himself to the moment. He needed to worry about only one thing: being with his wife.

They jumped into what had become the unknown together. Both were nervous, careful of causing more hurt, but willing to try again. As important as love was, that willingness was more important at this point.

And they had that.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Sunday..._

Abby was lying on her side on the bed, watching Tim sleep. She still loved to see him sleep. She watched as his bare chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm and she smiled. Friday night had been...hard. She had noticed every time Tim hesitated and it had made her feel chagrined. But on Saturday morning, they had tried again, and it had been better. Then, last night...

The recollection made Abby smile again. The first time they had truly come together in almost eight months. In a way, knowing all that it had taken to reach this point had made last night all the sweeter. Because of all the pain they had come through, Abby felt it had far surpassed the thoughtless passion of their honeymoon. Instead of being wild and crazy, it had been deep and full.

Carefully, she reached out and gently caressed Tim's face. He stirred but didn't awaken. The worry lines that had developed in his face over the last few months had smoothed out as he slept, fully relaxed. How close she'd come to throwing it all away. How close Tim had come to giving up. She deeply regretted the pain that he had faced, but she could also acknowledge that it had probably required something like this to shake her out of her complacency. Everything had been going her way. No one had told her she needed to change, and she had become accustomed to being the same as she'd always been. ...and she wasn't one for self-reflection. She wouldn't go that route unless she felt it was necessary.

It had become desperately necessary. Now, while the pain was still there, it was ebbing, and she could say with some assurance that she and Tim had a better relationship than they'd had before. It wasn't fully rebuilt yet, but they were on their way to having a stronger marriage. It was horrible that infidelity was what it had taken...but it hadn't destroyed them, as she had feared it would in the beginning.

Tim took a deep breath and opened his eyes slightly. Abby smiled. He was almost awake.

Another two minutes and Tim raised a hand and covered hers. Then, without speaking, he opened his eyes, pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.

Abby smiled as Tim shifted around to pull her close.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Great morning," she said back.

He smiled.

"Wasn't too bad, was it."

"Not bad at all. Never."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Tim said. "Because I felt it, too."

Abby kissed him.

"We don't have to check out until noon," she said.

"Then, we can have a nice breakfast."

Abby pouted.

"We can't make up for eight months in two days, Abbs," Tim said.

"Of course not! ...but we could start!" Abby said, grinning playfully.

"Maybe later. Right now, though...I'm starving."

As if on cue, Tim's stomach started rumbling. Abby chuckled and stroked his stomach.

"Well, I guess we'll have to fill that empty cavern."

Tim sat up, forcing Abby to do the same.

"Yes, we will," Tim said. He smiled and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Otherwise, where will I get the energy?"

Abby kissed him and jumped out of bed. She walked to the phone and ordered room service. Tim went into the bathroom and she heard the shower go on. She waited for a few minutes and then decided to join him.

By the time they finished fighting over the shower head and the soap and shampoo, their breakfast had arrived and they sat at the little table, dressed in the complimentary bathrobes.

"I feel so...high society sitting here like this," Abby said.

Tim smiled. "Don't get used to it. This is not going to be the norm."

"I think I'm okay with that. Actually, I _know_ I'm okay with that. I don't need this all the time...but thank you doing it, for doing this for me...for _us_."

"If it's worth saving, it's worth fighting for."

"It is."

"Yeah, it is."

"This was a good weekend."

"It was. Thanks for being patient with me."

Abby finished her breakfast and pulled Tim over to the couch. They curled up together and let time pass in the world while they enjoyed some timeless moments.

It was the timeless moments that were the most treasured.

But even the most timeless of moments had to end. Check-out time came all too soon and Tim and Abby left their solitude and headed back to the world.

Closer together and more healed.


	53. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Two months later..._

Jimmy's graduation party ended up being a full month late. First, there was a case. Then, there was another case. Then, there was yet _another_ case. Each time, it was a case that took all their extra time. So they kept putting it off. Every time that happened, they all apologized profusely because, as Jimmy's graduation day receded further into the past, it was clear that this was not going to be nearly so timely as they had hoped it would. Since Jimmy was now a full-time assistant to Ducky, however, he was more than willing to accept a delay. He was working himself; so the fact that they couldn't have a party was fine. He couldn't have a party, either.

Still, the night finally arrived. Jimmy had already celebrated with his med school buddies. In fact, he had come to work looking a bit worse for the wear after whatever had happened at _that_ particular party. He refused to give details, but he said that he'd be happy for something a bit lower-key. So they had dinner at a relatively-upscale restaurant, talking and laughing so much that they worried they might disturb some of the other diners, even though they were in a separate room.

Ducky and Gibbs came along to dinner, and it was probably the first time in months that there was absolutely no awkwardness, just a celebration of a friend's achievement. There were plenty of toasts to Jimmy's success but no one imbibed _too_ deeply...because this was only the beginning of the party which they had intentionally scheduled for a Saturday night, knowing that they might want to...sleep in the next day.

After dinner, Ducky excused himself with a smile, saying that he was much too old for whatever they were going to do next. Gibbs did the same and there was a round of protests, and after an attempt to remain firm, the two older men agreed to go along.

"All right," Tony declared. "Off we go!"

"Where are we going now?" Jimmy asked.

Tony just grinned and headed out of the restaurant with everyone else in tow. Jimmy smiled at his girlfriend, Breena, and followed the crew.

It turned out to be less frightening that Jimmy had expected. It was a karaoke bar. They'd reserved a private room and the equipment was all set up. With the crew from NCIS, they had plenty of people to take turns singing and drinks all around. At around midnight, Tony declared that Tim and Abby were going to sing the duet "I've Had the Time of my Life" from _Dirty Dancing_ and he invited them to do some dirty dancing of their own. Abby said Tony would have to pay them and Tim added that it would cost a thousand dollars...per minute. Tony pouted and allowed them to sing only. At 12:15, Jimmy and Breena were forced to sing "Unforgettable". At 12:30, Tim, Abby and Jimmy conspired and made Tony and Ziva sing "Summer Nights" from _Grease_. Tony got totally into it, acting out John Travolta's part while it took a good half of the song for Ziva to follow suit. By the end of the song, however, they were hamming it up big time. They tried to get Gibbs to sing, but he refused outright...but Ducky agreed, so long as it wasn't beneath his dignity. They got him singing John Denver's "Country Roads" and Ducky declared that nothing John Denver sang could possibly be beneath his dignity.

It was nearing two a.m. and things were winding down, but Tony, Tim, Abby and Ziva had planned on a big final number and they made everyone join in. Even Gibbs. Enough imbibing had been done by this point that not even the Gibbs stare could stop them.

The rousing, if not on-key sounds of "Celebration" rang throughout the restaurant.

After that, well, the party was pretty much over. Ducky noted that, based on the words, they should have sang the song at the _beginning_ of the party, not at the end. Tony said that they hadn't been sure everyone would join in at the beginning, but they were _positive_ they all would at the end. Ducky could concede that it was likely.

As they left, everyone congratulated Jimmy again. No one had drank themselves under the table by any means but most of the group were a bit tipsy. Tony and Abby were neck and neck in terms of the amount of alcohol consumed. Ziva and Jimmy were a bit behind them. Tim was more of a social drinker which worked well for getting Abby home. No one had wanted to drive. Tim and Abby got a taxi. Gibbs and Ducky decided to split a taxi. Ziva, Jimmy and Breena took the Metro and Tony had planned on walking but ended up taking a taxi by himself.

Tim got Abby safely home and into bed. They both fell asleep quickly, happy about the success of the evening.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Late Sunday morning..._

Abby woke up, feeling a bit of a headache from the night before, but overall, it wasn't bad. She rolled over and saw that Tim was no longer in bed. She felt his side of the bed and it was cold. Tim had been up for a while, then.

_What time is it?_

Abby sat up in bed. Her mouth tasted awful. Before going downstairs, she decided to make herself slightly presentable.

As she was brushing her teeth, she smelled something from the kitchen. She smiled and headed out. At the top of the stairs she paused. Tim was at the bottom of the stairs just getting ready to come up.

"Morning," she said.

Tim stopped and smiled.

"I thought you'd still be asleep."

"I didn't drink _that _much."

"You ready for breakfast, then? ...or maybe brunch? It's after ten."

"Yeah, I'm ready. I'm surprised you didn't wake me up."

"You were pretty deep asleep. I kept Jethro out."

Abby realized that she was still standing at the top of the stairs. Tim wasn't rushing her at all. He just waited patiently for her to get moving. Abby walked down the stairs. At the last few steps, Tim held out his hand. Abby stared at him for a moment. He just grinned and wiggled his fingers. Abby took his hand and let him conduct her into the kitchen.

The little table was set rather elaborately.

"I smell pancakes."

"You do smell pancakes," Tim said. "Blueberry pancakes. I've been wanting to try this recipe out for a few days."

"And you decided to go all out?"

"Sure. Why not? Have a seat."

Tim pulled out the chair for her. She sat down and let him serve her.

"Don't worry," he said. "I tasted them first. They're not poisoned."

Abby laughed and got a forkful. She tried them.

"Delicious, Tim."

"Good. Third time's the charm."

Abby smiled and held out a forkful for him. Tim smiled and let her feed him a couple of bites. Then, they both fed themselves. After a little bit, Abby had a sudden thought, a comparison of moments.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't believe how much better this is now."

"Than?"

"Than that first morning when I was making breakfast, thinking it could make everything go away. I'm so glad that we're sitting here together."

"I'm glad, too, Abbs," Tim said. "I told you that first day...I chose you and, while I won't deny that there have been moments I regretted it in the last few months, I'm glad I didn't give up. I glad you didn't give up on me."

Abby scooted her chair around the table and pulled her plate around, too. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She knew that Tim understood. The difference was night and day. They couldn't have gone on the way they had been before, even if the infidelity hadn't occurred (and she still wished that wasn't what it had taken). They were better now than they'd ever been. They had more to go. Things weren't perfect, but they were happy together again. She leaned her head on Tim's shoulder. He kissed her gently.

They finished eating and then cleaned up the kitchen.

Together.

FINIS!


End file.
